


Lifeforms

by ramesses



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Force Ghosts, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multi, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-11-17 02:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramesses/pseuds/ramesses
Summary: The aftermath of Pong Krell's dark intentions is darker still, a blackness that endures even after what is left of the 501st and 212th leave the planet of Umbara. Called back to Coruscant to undergo questioning by the Jedi Council as to the actions of and subsequent death of one of their masters, Rex continues to struggle with the emptiness felt deep within him. A depression falls over the clone Captain, and none of his brothers' comforts can wipe clean the simmering flesh he still feels on the tip of his fingers. A new darkness haunts him. Granted a short reprieve from the front-lines due to the state of him and his troopers, Rex struggles to face the facts of the battle, and the fact that his shaking hands failed to execute the being responsible. It is up to Anakin Skywalker to bring his Captain out of that void which clouds his mind and weighs down his body. Anakin has always been important to Rex, but as their time together continues, he comes to realize that importance may not quite cover it. Anakin himself is faced with a decision that threatens to end a romance, just as it promises to create one.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> > _From the beginning._   
> 

Tension was thicker than Kamino’s storm clouds inside the white room. 

_It's got to be almost time now._

That feeling coated his body like the ever-present rainfall, unrelenting. Each muscle felt as if it were made stiff, forced to hold some position that long-trained limbs identified as foreign. That made little sense, he knew, because he had struck that “at attention” pose a million times before, in a million different training sessions. It was the same _every time_. Shoulders pulled back, arms behind his waist, gripping his elbow with the other hand, and feet together. Over and over, shaped by his instructors till the form was perfect, and would be perfect every time he struck it. No room for error, they would say, or he would end up a piss-poor soldier not worth a damn for the Republic. A good soldier had a good, solid stance, one that said he would listen and obey every order given till the instant of his death.

CT-7567 had made certain that morning that his stance was, in fact, _correct_ , not a single limb jutting in a way it shouldn’t. Clones didn’t feel anxiety, because clones were made to handle great amounts of stress. This was his mantra, again and again inside his head till it became background noise, the sentences encoding themselves in his mind, just like every other thing that had been drilled in. Programmed, he corrected himself. Programmed from birth, repeated since the moment days later when he could speak. He deliberately denied the way his heart pounded in his chest, as if it needed to force the blood through every squeezed vein in his body.

Just nerves before battle, _just kriffing nerves_ , except he wasn’t about to go to battle, and there wasn’t going to be any of the enemy’s forces blasting their way through the door to the tiny room.

Today, he was meeting his General, his Jedi. _A_ Jedi, he corrected. Not his.

_Nothin' about this belongs to me. I belong to the Republic, and I plan to stay loyal to that._

It was sort of a big deal, besides the fact that after the rotations spent preparing for just this moment, they were finally going to head out, to be used. 

It would also be the first time CT-7567 saw a human, some other species, or whatever his – _the_ , not his – Jedi ended up being. It wouldn’t be his face staring back at him, the face of his brothers, or one of the Kaminoans. It wouldn’t be the helmets of his teachers, either. A completely new element to look at, to react to. The occasion, however, was supposed to be grim, he reminded himself. War against the Republic had begun. CT-7567 should have been grateful of all those years when his services and the services of others weren’t needed, a period when clones were just things stuffed in the back of a closet, gathering dust and other particles with disuse. It was … odd, but the call to war made him feel more _alive_ , more like a living, breathing existence rather than a glorified back-up strategy. It should, regardless, ignite feelings of dread with all the data the Kaminoans had forced in front of his eyes. The horrors of war, the horrors of being surrounded by the _dead and the dying_ and the bright lasers color-coding the air. He wouldn’t _feel_ the stress, they said. Clones weren’t made to feel it. They were only working to normalize for him what he would see. Neither thought was very comforting. His comfort was irrelevant, though.

CT-7567 knew it wouldn’t be white walls and clean halls, quirky droids hovering along that probably had too much personality for his unnoticed preferences. It would be different the moment his – _the_ – Jedi stepped through that automatic door. He was prepared, three words that he told himself constantly. A private swear that he would have carved into the inside of his skull if he could.

_I'll remain loyal, no matter what. The General won't regret havin' me. I'll do good._

CC-2224 told him he over-thought things. CT-7567 had only stiffly replied that the idea of over-thinking was _very damn stupid_. He had to think a lot to be prepared.

He wondered idly if any of the others had already met their generals. Did Jedi normally take this long? Was this the usual procedure? His fingers pressed into the elbow that he had cradled against his palm, willing the slight shake in his hands to cease immediately. Never again would his hands shake - another sworn vow to himself.

There was a low _swish_ , and CT-7567 realized, as his spine perked straighter, that the door had opened. _Kriffing finally_.

Nothing running through his head gave him any damn idea what to expect, or what he was _really_ preparing for. He knew what various species looked like from computer files and studies. It would be a completely different thing to see them in person. His chest shuddered with a slow exhale and inhale, eyes fixated on the opening of the little hallway that led from the door. There was the soft thud of footsteps, then a figure that stepped out, dark fabrics contrasting with the white walls, and CT-7567’s own white, crisp armor.

It was a man – a human male, with short, cropped brown hair that looked like it was in the midst of an effort to be grown out. It sort of reminded him of his own dark hair, though his was buzzed a lot shorter than the guy in front of him. A mischievous face, CT-7567 couldn’t help but notice. The kind of expression he would see on some of his more trouble-prone brothers, but at the same time, _nothing_ like them at all. Grown, he figured, but somehow still young. Bright, blue eyes. Not the same kind of blue as the dull, murky color of Kamino’s waters, and not quite the same shade of blue that adorned several bits of his armor, or his shoulder piece.

They were blue like what CT-7567 imagined a blue sky might look like – clear, fresh, startling. Not a single damn cloud in sight.

_Huh. Never seen blue eyes before._

Those eyes were on him now. The man was grinning, head tilting just a bit towards the right.

“So,” the Jedi began. Grown, but definitely young, judging by that voice. It seemed to CT-7567, or as much as he could tell from determinedly staring straight ahead while at attention, that the other was giving him a once-over, even starting to _circle_ him. CT-7567 felt like a sea-mouse being circled by an eel. _He was prey_. The Jedi finished his sentence as he made his way around. “You’re my clone, huh?”

That seemed to warrant an answer, and CT-7567 cleared his throat before doing so. “Yes, sir. Your Captain, sir.”

This made the other smirk for reasons CT-7567 didn’t seem to catch. “I’ve got’a admit, I do like the sound of that,” he mused. Then, speaking as if he suddenly remembered something, he added, “I’m Anakin. Anakin Skywalker.”

_General Anakin Skywalker._

“It’s an honor to meet you, General Skywalker.”

Silence stretched on. As to why, CT-7567 didn’t know, but it gave his heart a moment to cease the overly rapid pace it was beating at against his ribs, and for him to assess the new feelings in the room. It's what he was trained to do. He had read about the Force, too, not that he knew exactly what Jedi could do with it, or what the Force really had to do with them. That was all vague footnotes at the bottom of reports read in the dim light of his sleeping tube. There was a feeling in the space that was different from before, though. It was as if the air had become a little thicker, a little calmer. Thick, but _light_. Clear. Similar, he thought, to taking in a breath of air after walking inside from the rain. He decided he didn’t mind it. CT-7567's shoulders loosened some, collar-bones shifting underneath the clean plates of armor.

The General spoke up again, still striding around at an easy pace. “So, _what_ , am I just going to call you ‘Captain’?” he asked, in an amused tone that didn’t register with CT-7567. He answered it with his same steady seriousness.

“Captain CT-7567, sir.”

The Jedi’s brows furrowed. “That’s just a number.”

“Yes, sir.”

Skywalker crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I was hoping to get a name.”

“ … _name_ , sir?”

_What did he mean by that?_

Skywalker had made a complete circle now, and stood in front of CT-7567. “Yeah, _you know_ – something that’s not a number. Clones have names, right?”

A burst of confusion came like an exploding star inside his head. He didn’t exactly _like_ the sensation, not in the least. Was this something he should have picked out before this briefing? He didn’t understand how he could have missed this – it hadn’t been in any manual or the instructions he had received. It was nothing the Kaminoans or his teachers had explained to him that he needed. He had his designation, his number, and that was it. He must have missed something. He must have messed the _whole kriffing thing up_ somewhere.

Skywalker suddenly spoke, holding his hands up in a sort of surrendering motion with a shrug of his shoulders. “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s alright if you don’t. No need to get tense about it.”

CT-7567 realized, in that instant, one of the Jedi’s abilities. He _must_ be able to sense emotions. It only made sense. CT-7567 worked very hard to never let any inner feelings show on his face. It rarely showed anything other than its default. Tight-lipped, jaw taut, eyes alert. The face of a proper trooper. It was more than a little humiliating to think the Jedi had probably felt the tension the moment he stepped into the room. If he had been any less of a soldier, he might have blushed.

_Not even sure if that'd be worse._

Skywalker was grinning again, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “So … you don’t have a name?”

CT-7567 had enough sense to answer this time, and quickly berated himself for not doing so before. “No, sir. I, _ah_ … do not.”

“Well, that won’t do,” Skywalker decided, eyes drifting to the ceiling. He seemed to be thinking. About _what_ , CT-7567 didn’t have a damn clue. Was he going to be reprimanded? That wouldn’t look good. He might be re-purposed to cleaning and sanitation duty if he was already kriffing up. Still, he held his straight posture, eyes staring forward till they settled on watching the way Skywalker’s lips pressed together, and the thoughtful hum that left them.

“I’ve got it!” the Jedi suddenly announced, snapping his fingers. He then pointed his index at the clone’s chest, causing CT-7567 to blink. “ _Rex_. Rex seems like a good name for you.”

“ … _Rex_ , sir?”

“Yeah. You know, _Rex_ , meaning kingly - a noble king, or something. You seem like a kingly kind of guy. That stiff way you’re standing reminds me of all the statues at the temple.” A pause to laugh, grinning and flashing white teeth. This seemed more sheepish than impish, but CT-7567 couldn’t say he was good at telling those kinds of things apart. “Don’t have to have it if you don’t like it. I know it’s kind of sudden. Spur-of-the-moment, I guess. I’m a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy.”

CT-7567 found himself unsure how to answer. His lips parted, but then they pursed instead of speaking. A name? Did that comply with protocol? Skywalker had to know what he was doing. The Jedi _was_ his General.

“ … _Rex_ ,” he repeated slowly, brows furrowing. A spark lit deep within the pit of his stomach. It was … _nice_ , he realized. He liked it.

“Rex,” Skywalker agreed, looking at him closely. Rex realized he kind of liked hearing Skywalker say it. A lot, really, but he wouldn’t let himself acknowledge that.

_Not too shabby._

“If it’s to your liking, sir,” he finally answered, spoken carefully as if he was diffusing a bomb with each syllable. He wasn’t sure how to accept what was definitely an honor. It had to be an honor to be named, _of all things_ , after only a few minutes.

Skywalker smiled broadly at him, holding out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain _Rex_.”

Rex’s eyes lowered to the limb, eyeing it before he brought one of his own from out behind his back. Skywalker immediately reached forward to grip his forearm, giving it a squeeze. Rex adjusted his wrist to do the same, gaze darting back up to the Jedi’s face. A warmth made its way down every nerve-ending in his body, like his blacks had suddenly become heated beneath his armor. His broad lips parted just slightly.

This was it. _His Jedi_.

Maybe it was the Force, or some damn other thing messing with his head, but that thought seemed to wipe clean the rest of his coherent thinking. It took a good second or two before he found the right words to respond with.

“A … _pleasure_ to meet you, General Skywalker.” His tone was lighter than usual. Rex didn't really remember ever sounding like _that_.

Skywalker’s grin was playful again, observing him curiously. “Smiling looks good on you, Rex.” 

Rex blinked, quickly lowering the corners of his mouth as Skywalker chuckled.

He hadn’t even realized he was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the shaking can't be stopped. It starts to become its own existence, telling others what that person would never dare say themselves. It works to expose, to shake that person apart. Even the strongest crumble from the quake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _Small lifeforms - they can kill without warning, so you don't explode._   
> 

_“Turn around. Step toward the wall.”_

_Krell’s smile was colder than the vacuum of space, even icier than its darkness. Rex felt exposed to it, like chilly fingers were gripping his wrists and curling around to clutch his heart within his chest._

_The Jedi turned around slowly, and took one large step forward._

_Rex squeezed one of his blasters with both hands, holding it up against his shoulder as the several discordant beeps behind him signaled that Jesse was lowering the blue shield. It dissipated starting at the center, the color slowly dissolving to reveal Krell and the blackness of the cell._

_“On your knees,” he spat out, mouth forming more viciously over the words than anything he had said in his short life. He accompanied it with a small shuffle forward towards the gaping mouth of the confined space, the bottoms of his footwear dragging slightly against the floor._

_He wasn’t sure if the surface was resisting him, or his own damn legs._

_Krell chuckled. Rex hated the sound._

_“You’re in a position of power now,” the Besalisk commented, as if the idea was entertaining to him. His head tilted back to glance at Rex over his shoulder. That smug smile was still there, revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. “How does it feel?”_

_Like he was going to explode, Rex found himself wanting to confess. As if the air was suddenly too heavy, and it was pressing down on his shoulders. Not just his shoulders, though. He could feel it pushing against his ribs and his stomach, some unknown force that was threatening to rip him apart from the inside while crushing him from above. He didn’t want it, not power – just to do his kriffing duty to the Republic, to his men._

_The Jedi still hadn’t gotten on his knees._

_“I said,” Rex repeated steadily, extending one arm and aiming the blaster at Krell’s back. His upper lip curled. “On your knees.”_

_This time, Krell obeyed the order, and started to drop down at a pace that made Rex feel as if the planet had started to rotate slower._

_“It feels good, doesn’t it? But … I can sense your fear,” Krell was saying, his voice now a rumble that reminded Rex of the beginnings of a ground-quake._

_Fear?_

_Rex had to look away, only for a moment, exhaling the small breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. Looking at Krell for too long felt like staring into a black hole – one that threatened to take him inside it._

_Clones didn’t feel anxiety, because clones were made to handle great amounts of stress._

_“You’re shaking … aren’t you?” came the Besalisk’s voice again._

_They were designed not to succumb to it, not to bow down under the pressure._

_Rex could feel his blaster shaking against his fingers. Not his blaster – his hand was shaking, tremoring. The aim of the weapon jerked subtly around the back of the Jedi’s head. He could feel the eyes of his brothers on him, and somehow, that was worse than the black hole. Their gazes were like suns, burning his shoulders. Fives, Jesse, Dogma, all watching him and Krell like quiet spectators._

_“What are you waiting for?” Krell barked, and Rex grit his teeth, re-aiming the blaster in his shaking hand. “The Umbarans are getting closer.”_

_He kriffing knew that, it wasn’t news. Every wasted second was a second he would have been shot down a failure on the battlefield. A trooper didn’t hesitate during war. Rex had to look down for a moment, giving the floor a quick glance before his eyes raised to the Jedi again._

_“I … have to do this,” Rex stated haltingly, his brows pinching together. Why did he say that? For whose benefit? Krell's? Himself? He should have said that more firmly, like a good, loyal Captain who owed his men would._

_“You can’t do it, can you?” Krell drawled. Rex would have bet a month’s rations that he was rolling his eyes. The guy even seemed to have the gall to sound irritated._

_He couldn’t, could he?_

_Rex’s throat felt thick, as if it stuffed full of armor padding._

_He couldn’t._

_Waxer and all his dead brothers – dead by his hands, this Jedi’s hands – were relying on him to set things right, and his palms were shaking. His trigger-finger couldn’t even carry out its one duty._

_Couldn’t. Why? What the kriff was wrong with him? Defect._

_“You can’t do it, can you?” Krell’s voice echoed, surrounding him._

_I can’t._

_“Execute order sixty-si – ”_

_I can’t._

_Darkness._

Rex jolted up with a sharp grunt, tasting sweat on his lips as he squinted through the dim light of the small room. It was unfamiliar. He was on a low bed, firmly padded with a little bit of give and no sheets. All the walls were bare except for the lines of light that filtered in from in-between the blinds of the square window. There was a little table with short legs and several mis-matched, un-lit candles on top of it.

Definitely not his usual quarters – even _this_ was nicer than those.

_Barely get any padding on my own cot._

He lifted one hand to wipe his damp forehead with the back of his palm, chest rising and falling quickly as he panted. His eyes squeezed shut, waiting till he saw ribbons of color dancing against the back of his lids before opening them again. Things were blurry, and Rex blinked forcefully several times till his surroundings came back into focus. His gaze dropped to his hands, which were resting against his thighs.

Shaking.

Rex curled his fingers into tight fists, carving crescents from his blunt nails into his palms.

_Never again would my hands shake. That’s what I swore to myself._

The blinking now served to hold back hot, frustrated tears. They didn’t fall – he may have kriffing _failed_ , but he sure as hell wasn’t about to cry. Troopers didn’t cry, not even for fallen brothers. Thoughts wandered to Waxer's single tear that had spilled over his cheek like a drop of blood. Rex tilted his head back, swallowing as his gaze focused on the ceiling.

_I know where I am now._

The Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

The 501st and the 212th had been called back for some time off from the front-lines. Something about stress from the fighting meaning they needed a break. It was one hell of an excuse for others to get their questions answered. Rex knew better than that. This wasn’t some damn vacation, because clones don’t feel stress. The Kaminoans said so themselves, and no one cared to prove it otherwise.

Rex’s presence had been requested by the Jedi Council the moment he stepped foot on Coruscant’s landing pad. Dogma had been led away. To where, Rex didn’t have a clue, and he didn’t like not knowing. Dogma didn’t deserve that. At least _Dogma_ had gotten the job done, did what Rex was supposed to do.

Couldn’t do.

_That guy should be Captain. There was a man that would do Skywalker proud._

The thought created a sharp ache.

A chirp from the door jerked Rex out of his thoughts, and he quickly swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pushing himself up. There wasn’t any need to get ready. The night before, he had methodically taken off his armor, cleaned it, and then had unconsciously put it right back on – even slept in it.

_Maybe I’m just tryn’a make myself feel like the solider I’m not._

Cody would have said he was over-thinking again.

“Rex?” called a voice from outside – a voice Rex could recognize in a heart-beat, no matter what. It took a pause for him to find his usually gruff tone to respond with.

“ _Uh_ \- come in, General Skywalker, sir.”

The door slid open, and in stepped Skywalker, a waning smile on his face as it _swished_ closed behind him. Rex stood rigidly at attention, eyes drifting to Skywalker’s lips. Old habits die hard, he guessed. Those lips could do the damnedest things when the Jedi talked.

_Stop starin’ at his lips._

Rex’s eyes raised slowly, and found Skywalker’s blue ones weren’t looking at him. They were glancing around the room with some look that said it was familiar to him. Nostalgic was the word he was looking for. Rex waited quietly, holding the stiff position.

“This used to be _my_ old room,” Skywalker started, a chuckle in his voice, “back when I was a Padawan at the temple.”

“ … Oh,” was all Rex could respond with. The interest in that one word wasn’t feigned, at least. Somehow, that fact made him feel calmer than he had in days.

“Yeah,” the other murmured, before giving his head a slight shake as he sighed. His eyes were on Rex now, looking him up and down. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine, sir. Never better.”

_If you count hands shakin’ and wakin’ up in a puddle of sweat the same as “fine”._

Skywalker made a face. “C’mon, Rex. You don’t have to call me 'sir' here. This isn’t a warzone.”

Rex opened his mouth to respond, but clamped it shut when the Jedi curtly interrupted him. “None of that 'General' stuff either, _okay_? At the temple, it’s just 'Anakin', and you’re just 'Rex'. Got it?”

Just Rex.

_Kriff, I don’t think I could ever call him “Anakin”._

“ … Yeah,” he mumbled. “Got it.”

Skywalker had a pleased smile on his face, laying a hand on Rex’s shoulder.

_It’s warm. So damn warm. I can feel it through my armor._

Rex relaxed his form, arms dropping limply to his sides.

The hand left his shoulder sooner than he wanted. It brought back the ache, a mix of emptiness that he couldn’t quite decide where it stemmed from. The faces of his dead brothers came to mind. Their eyes met briefly before Rex turned his head, staring down at the bed. A part of him wanted to lay down again, now that he knew Skywalker had, at some point.

“So … you ready?” Skywalker asked tentatively, a forced lightness in his voice. Rex glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah.” Rex almost felt like that was a _lie_. “The Council ready to see me?”

Skywalker nodded, motioning at the door with one hand. “They’re assembling now. Just thought I’d walk you down to the room.” There was that damn smile on his face again, and Rex felt drawn to it like planets to suns. He had to look, even if he didn’t want to. “I’ll be in there with you while they question you, so _don’t_ worry, okay? You did the right thing.”

_No, I didn’t, sir. Dogma did. Dogma was able to do what needed to be done. I couldn’t stop shaking enough to pull the kriffing trigger. Don’t praise me. I can’t take that._

Rex cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Wasn’t me that fired the shot.” The words burned on the tip of his tongue. He could hear Cody in his head chiding him about taking compliments. He wasn't sure this was one. “Dogma did. He did the right thing for everyone. Couldn’t do it myself.”

_You had to know that. I know you read my report, even though you hate readin’ them._

Skywalker’s smile wilted, then disappeared. Silence.

In that moment, Rex wanted nothing more than to apologize – hell, ask for _forgiveness_ for failing him, for failing his men, almost failing the whole mission. Nothing was making anything right. Not Fives’ words, not Jesse’s nods, not even the knowing look Dogma had given him on Umbara.

He could still see the smoldering bodies of his brothers on that foggy ground. The nightmares wouldn't stop – nightmares that mixed the old with the new.

Skywalker was staring hard at him now, as if he was trying to take Rex apart like one of his ships with just his eyes. He probably could, and Rex wanted him to stop before he did. He felt completely _uncovered_ under it, as if the Jedi was seeing him naked, or his naked thoughts. The only comfort he could take was the fact that he knew the Jedi couldn’t do that. It wasn’t like they could read his mind.

There was another sigh, then Skywalker turned away. Rex instinctively took a half-step forward, one arm raising slightly. To do what, he had no clue, but he resisted acting on whatever the impulse was.

_That can’t be normal. Maybe I’m not normal. Maybe Krell was right – I’ve got to be defective somewhere._

“Let’s go,” Skywalker announced sharply, moving towards the door.

_Ah, kriff. I think I upset him._

Rex followed after him quickly, leaving his helmet behind on the floor by the bed. He wouldn’t need it, not for this. They would probably tell him to take it off anyway.

He stayed behind the other as they made their way down the hall. A habit. The ceiling was high above his head, with windows lining the outer wall, nearly the same height. Various doors were on the other side. It was quiet. _Too quiet_ for Rex’s taste. Even if he never did say much on off-days, he preferred the boisterous noise of his brothers. There was never any empty silence like this with them around.

_Of course, most of them are dead, so maybe I ought’a get used to the silence._

They didn’t pass a single body till they made it to the door of the Council room. Skywalker turned to him suddenly. Rex couldn’t name the expression on his face at that moment. Distressed, maybe, if he wanted to think that. Another part of him named it to be angry with the way the other’s brows were pinched. Frustrated? The guy was frowning sourly, too. Rex would have thought, after all this time, he would be better at reading his Jedi’s face.

Seems all he could really do was stay _loyal_ and follow orders. At least he could manage to keep his own default expression from changing.

Skywalker leaned down close all of the sudden. The movement was fast, and the only startled reaction Rex could manage was tensing, sucking in a sharp breath. His heart beat hard against his chest as Skywalker’s cheek brushed against his, those lips near his ear.

_Oh. Whispering._

“Look,” Skywalker murmured in a hushed tone, causing _goosebumps_ to trail down Rex’s spine. “Krell got what he _deserved_ , alright? For what he did to your men – for what he said to _you_. What matters is that he’s dead. I … _damn_ , I just wish I could have killed that sleemo myself, you know?”

_Yeah, same here, sir._

“You’ll be alright,” he finished confidently, patting Rex’s bicep. Rex could only nod jerkily. It felt like his heart had jumped into his throat.

Taking a step back, Skywalker turned towards the door as it _swished_ open. Once Rex had let out a slow, somewhat shaky breath, he followed after him into the Council room.

The chairs were the only things he recognized from various transmissions. The room was a pale brown, circular, with windows behind them. There were more Jedi masters there than he recognized, their Force presences nearly sucking the wind from his lungs. His legs felt heavy, but he followed mutely after Skywalker, arms held tightly behind his waist. Once they had made it to the center of the circle, Skywalker stopped. Rex copied the action behind him, standing at attention.

“Masters, I have with me Captain Rex.” Skywalker took a step to the side, using one arm to motion back at Rex. He smiled slightly at him, offering a small nod.

Silence. Rex took a step forward to where Skywalker had stood, bowing his head. Was he supposed to say something? He cleared his throat with a light cough.

“The fight on Umbara – ”

“We’ve read your report, Captain,” was Windu’s stiff interruption, and Rex fell silent. “You’re just here to answer the questions we have before we turn you over to the Republic military base, where your fellow trooper Dogma is.”

“The Republic Center for Military Operations?” Skywalker cut in sharply. Rex recognized that emotion, at least. Indignation. “Why is he going there?”

It seemed the other Jedi were used to Skywalker’s outbursts. Rex couldn’t spot any reactions, just stares. Windu answered him. “He is _property_ of the Republic, and therefore must answer for his actions and the actions of his men in front of the Chancellor in court. This isn’t solely a Jedi matter.” Skywalker looked just about ready to argue that, but Windu continued before he could. “We are here to hear your Captain talk, _Skywalker_ , not you.”

_Right. I’m property. I almost forget that sometimes._

Rex, realizing he had been staring at Skywalker too, quickly looked away. The tension in the room made his armor feel weighted down.

Clones don’t get stressed.

_Definitely somethin' wrong with me._

Behind his back, Rex could feel the slight tremor beginning in his hands.

“ _Nervous_ , are you, Captain?”

General Yoda’s voice. Rex’s eyes lowered to where he sat. The small Jedi was looking at him intently, and he had to resist to urge to fidget.

“No, sir.”

“Your hands – they shake, do they not?” Yoda retorted smoothly, motioning at his waist with one clawed finger. 

Rex could feel Skywalker’s gaze on him now.

 _You’re shaking, aren’t you?_ Krell’s voice in his head.

He couldn’t look at his Jedi – any of them. Instead, his eyes dropped to the bottom of Windu’s seat. Shame was pooling in stomach, like some poison that threatened to end him. Acid, more like, melting away his bones.

_Don’t look at me like that, sir._

Windu spoke up, and Rex was ridiculously relieved he did. “Did you notice anything strange before he sent your men against the 212th? Anything that indicated the dark side had taken hold of him?”

“Just what he wanted done beforehand, sir. He ordered the execution of Fives and Jesse to be done publicly by the rest of the men instead of keepin’ ‘em in the brig.”

“You said he spoke of joining Count Dooku while imprisoned. Is this correct?”

Rex gave a short nod. “Yes, sir.”

Windu’s eyes narrowed at him. “ _Why_?”

 _Because I can – because you’re inferior._ Krell’s voice again, still crystal-clear.

_Inferior._

“He, _uh_ … said he wasn’t 'naïve' enough to be a Jedi anymore,” Rex began slowly, wanting to swallow. “He spoke of a new power risin’. Some new order he said he foresaw.” He could still feel his fingers quaking, itching for some invisible trigger. “He said the Jedi would _lose_ … sir – that the Republic would be _taken down_ from the inside.”

Windu and Yoda exchanged looks.

“Troubling, this is,” Yoda murmured. “On the side of the _enemy_ , then, he said he was?”

“No, sir. He said he was on his own side.”

Skywalker’s eyes threatened to burn holes into him.

_Stop looking at me, sir. I’m afraid I’ll melt or somethin’._

“It’s a shame he had to be killed,” Windu finally said, leaning back in his seat. To Rex, he sounded somewhat annoyed.

For the first time, Kenobi spoke up. Rex hadn’t even realized he was there till he did, and he turned his head towards him. Kenobi’s eyes were on Windu. “This is most troubling indeed. While it would have been _beneficial_ to question him about what he said, Captain Rex and his troopers made the right choice.” He crossed his legs as he continued. “The Umbarans were proving to be a difficult foe, and they would have had their hands full trying to watch them _and_ a rogue Jedi master.”

The rest of the Council nodded. Yoda hummed gravely.

“Agree with you, Obi-Wan, I do,” Yoda acknowledged, nodding. “All the information, we have. Do more, we _cannot_.” Those old eyes were on Rex now, and he forced himself to meet that damn gaze. “Take Krell’s prophecy into consideration, we must. _Meditate_ on it, we will, yes.”

“That will be all, Captain,” stated Windu, waving a hand at him. “You’re dismissed.”

Rex turned quickly – quick enough that he wouldn’t catch sight of Skywalker’s face, and purposefully slow walk towards the door. He heard the other begin the same behind him – till Kenobi’s voice came.

“Anakin, do stay a moment, if you will.”

“ _Obi-Wan_ – ”

Rex didn’t hear the rest of what he was sure was a complaint. It was a tone he definitely knew. The door _swished_ open, then closed behind him, cutting off the Jedi’s voice. Leaning his head out, he glanced up and down the hall. It was still empty. Rex leaned back against a wall, taking in deep, uneven breaths.

_Thought I was gon’a suffocate in there._

Or be turned into a pile of ash under Skywalker’s gaze, he added, running a hand over his closely buzzed and bleached hair. The shaking had almost completely stopped, but the tips of his fingers still twitched whether he wanted them to or not.

That had been kriffing humiliating. It seemed like a day for failures and embarrassments, not only in front of Skywalker, but the other Generals as well.

Rex lowered his head, pushing himself off of the wall with a quiet grunt. Was he supposed to wait for him? Go back to his temporary quarters? While the Jedi was usually a source of calm, now – _now_ he wasn’t sure how he could face him.

_I can’t do it._

He started walking. It was a sluggish pace at first, till he heard the telltale _swish_ of the Council room’s door. His legs moved forward a little faster.

“Rex!”

His hands became fists, swinging by his sides.

“Hey, Rex!”

A warm hand on his elbow, and a grip that forced him to jerk around. He now faced a slightly flush-faced Skywalker who stared down pensively at him. Rex’s jaw tensed, teeth clenched together.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Skywalker demanded, fingers digging into the small gaps between the armor pieces.

“I did.” Honest to a fault, at least when answering his Jedi’s questions.

“What’s going _on_ with you, Rex?”

“With all due respect, sir – ”

“'Anakin',” the other corrected sharply, fingers pressing more insistently into Rex’s arm.

_I can’t call you that._

Rex ignored the correction. “It’s a _personal_ matter, sir. Not worth the discussion.”

Skywalker’s expression became bewildered. “Personal matter? Rex – ”

“If you don’t _mind_ ,” he cut in steadily, though his mind was racing. “I’d like to go to my quarters. Got some preparin’ to do for tomorrow and the hearing.”

“Don’t _do this_ , Rex,” the Jedi hissed – angry, again, Rex guessed. “Talk to me, or something. Don’t do that. Don’t act like something’s not bothering you. What was Master Yoda talking about? Were your hands – ”

It took a good amount of strength, but with a hard jerk, Rex yanked his arms out of Skywalker’s grip, taking a step back. That hand still hovered in the air where his arm had been for a moment before it slowly dropped.

Silence.

“Am I dismissed, sir?” Rex asked, his tone level. The _opposite_ of how his insides felt. Everything felt off-balance, like it was crumbling. He was crumbling inside.

_I can’t, sir. You don’t understand._

Skywalker didn’t respond right away. Rex could see the vexed look on his face, mixed with rising anger, like a fire. His lips were pressed together till the color had drained from them.

Finally, he did reply.

“ _Fine_ ,” he barked. “Yeah, you’re _dismissed_ , Captain.”

Not Rex. That hurt, a lot.

Rex forced himself to salute, but the other didn’t see it. He had turned away, walking off heatedly down the hall with his arms stiff at his sides.

He was sort of relieved Skywalker hadn’t seen the salute, anyway.

It would have been even more shameful if he had seen the way his hand _trembled_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally into it! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There exists some people whose selflessness and utter disregard for themselves ultimately harms them. They keep a tight hold on all their hurts and grievances, never letting them see the light of day. The only thing that one will ever hear from them is that they are fine, doing fine, or will be fine. They are loyal, and they are noble, but they are so very lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _Stop your growing limbs and thinking that you love him._   
> 

Rex could see the barest hints of the morning light shining through the blinds, hitting the wall across from the window. A perfect square of transparent strips that still retained the color of that surface. He was laying on the bed in the dark, hands resting behind his head, and watching the slow progression of the light’s appearance with half-lidded eyes.

He couldn’t sleep.

The only reason he could think of being able to the night before was exhaustion from the mission. Even weariness could beat his will-power into submission sometimes. This time, however, he had stayed awake. Hours were spent staring up at the ceiling in that darkness – a black nothing that made the room seem bigger than it really was.

It didn’t stop the memories from _surfacing_.

There had been an attempt to sleep, the result in mind being that if he did, he wouldn’t have to think about those things. That had proved a failure. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Waxer’s face. He could see the tear that trickled down his sweat-stained skin, hear his last gasps. It wasn’t just Waxer’s face, either. _Dozens_ of faces rose up in his mind – the face of the dead trooper he had pulled the helmet off of. It was the face that made him realize the truth and _damn_ his aim for being so kriffing accurate. Then, there was the face of the trooper he had dragged with him under his arm in the middle of the cross-fire. Those scared, bewildered eyes – amber-colored, like his own – staring up at him before he crumpled to the ground from Rex’s grasp.

_Probably was the shock._

It was different than anything else he had dealt with. This wasn’t death because of some droid that was lucky to hit its target. He, Captain Rex of the 501st, had dealt the last shot to those men. The smell of burning flesh infiltrated the air because _he_ had created the rot.

He killed them.

When he opened his eyes, there was just the void of the black room. It was like staring up at a starless sky. All he was left with then were the voices, shouts that became whispers as his head replayed them over and over.

Sometimes, as the hours wore on, those whispered words were Skywalker’s words.

Rex could see his face, even without closing his eyes.

What really stuck was that angry – _probably_ frustrated – expression. The way the Jedi’s upper lip would curl slightly, lifting a side of his nose up. His brows would create a harsh line when they pinched together, and his eyes narrowed. Rex had noticed that there really wasn’t much of a difference between Skywalker’s anger and frustration. They seemed to come hand in hand, like his two blasters – both working together to forge a way.

_I should talk to him._

Skywalker was always there. He was his _only_ constant.

_Good job kriffing that up, Rex. Mission successful._

He exhaled, which sounded much louder than it really was in that small, silent room. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side, placing his feet on the floor. He had to apologize. He could barely stand the distance that spat had put between them, as small and recent as it was. Then again, maybe it _wasn’t_ that small. It could have been just as big as a flaming asteroid. Rex turned his head, gaze falling upon the flat pillow at the head of the bed.

Slowly, he reached for it, gingerly lifting it up with one hand.

Rex stared at it. Skywalker _had said_ this used to be his room.

Hesitantly, and with some embarrassment, he brought the pillow to his face, pressing the fabric against his nose. He took in one deep inhale, allowing himself to imagine, just for a moment, that he could _smell_ Skywalker on it. All he needed was just the barest hints of that scent. Shutting his eyes, he inhaled again, letting it fill his lungs.

He didn’t smell a thing.

“ _Ah_ , hell. It was a stupid thing to do anyway,” he muttered crossly to himself, lips pursing. It was severely disappointing.

Rex stood, dropping the pillow back on the bed. Even in his own privacy, he felt like an idiot for chasing traces of Skywalker. Why not go to the _source_? He wasn’t some bright-eyed newbie fumbling over his own weapons. He needed to man the hell up and go talk to the General.

_I need to hear him. I need to hear that kriffing voice._

With dedicated speed, he yanked his armor pieces on, grateful for the momentary distraction that forced him to focus on the task at hand, rather than let his thoughts wander to dangerous, death-filled places. Once things were situated, he stepped out, and the door _swished_ closed behind him.

Granted, he didn’t know _where_ Skywalker was staying in the temple. The guy had come to get him, and after that short argument, had stalked off in the opposite direction of Rex’s own quarters. Best place to start had to be by the Jedi Council’s room.

The halls were just as empty as they had been the day before. Rex passed only one Jedi on his route, and it wasn’t anyone he personally recognized – just some old Cosian, who smiled and nodded at him when he walked by.

_Great. If I’ve got no one to ask, how the hell do I find Skywalker?_

“Rex!”

Blinking at the sound of his name being called, Rex halted mid-step, turning his head to look over his shoulder.

Commander Tano.

She had a wide, toothy grin on her face, waving enthusiastically at him as she quickened her pace and jogged up to where he stood.

“Rex!” she repeated, voice a bit breathless. “It’s great to see you! I’m … _surprised_ it’s here, though.” Despite that curious remark, she still smiled. “What are you doing at the temple?”

_Kriffing up with your Master, not sleepin’._

Still, it was hard not to smile when Tano was beaming directly at him like a crescent moon. Rex managed a half-grin. It was different from when Skywalker would smile at him. That didn’t make him feel at all like Tano’s smiles did. When she smiled, everything was lighter, as if she was using the Force to lift him up off of the ground.

When _Skywalker_ smiled, it felt like his organs were bursting inside him all at once. Sometimes, he felt as if his heart might shatter his ribs.

His grin faded as soon as it had made its appearance, though his tone was thankfully level when he responded. Seems _some aspect_ of his training was paying off. “I was called here by the Council to answer some questions, sir.” Part of him knew Tano would notice the difference, and he hoped she wouldn’t comment on it.

She didn’t, even though Rex caught her eyes flitting downwards for half a second. “ _Oh_ – about … Umbara?” Her tone was incredibly cautious.

_I’m not that broken. Just dented. I won’t shatter if you ask me … I think._

Rex nodded. “Yes, sir. General Windu and General Yoda wanted to know more about General Krell.”

Her nose wrinkled. “That guy always rubbed me the _wrong_ way. He seemed pretty self-serving.”

_You don’t know the half of it._

Tano continued. “Dogma ended up having to …” There was a pause where she chewed on her lower lip, peering up at him. “… _kill him_ , right? Master Skywalker gave me your report.”

Another nod. He had to look away from her gaze, instead focusing on one of her shoulders. “Yeah. He got the job done. I’ll be seein’ him later today.”

“Really?”

“Seems like it,” he murmured. “They’ve got me goin’ to the military base.”

The Togruta offered him a sympathetic look, and a frown that made her lips pucker. Before she could speak up and offer what Rex was sure were some words of comfort that he _wouldn’t_ be able to stomach, he hurriedly asked, “Is, _ah_ … General Skywalker still at the temple?”

_Please._

“No,” she answered thoughtfully, tilting her head. “He left last night. He’s visiting Padmé – _um_ , Senator Amidala – over at her Senate office. I think he’s still there. He didn’t come back, anyway.” One of the white markings that arched over her eyes raised. “Master seemed … _kind_ of upset. I mean, he’s always kind of upset one way or another, but it seemed different this time.” Rex cleared his throat slightly, turning his face away. He knew she was now staring at him rather intently. He could _feel_ it. “Rex? You wouldn’t … happen to know why, _would_ you?”

_Don’t ask me that, kid._

Rex’s shoulders tensed. “I … think _I_ might be the cause, sir.”

He gave her a glance. Her face seemed … perplexed, he supposed. It was easier to tell what she was feeling than it was to guess Skywalker’s emotions, as blatant as they could be. 

“ _You_? _What_ , did you insult his flying or something?” she joked, snorting a bit. “You’d think he’d get the idea already with how many ships he’s crashed.”

If he had been in a different mood, Rex might have chuckled. He didn’t – just offered his same half-grin. “No, sir. I have … a _personal_ matter that I’m copin’ with. I told him I, _er_ … didn’t want to talk about it, and I guess he took it the wrong way.”

She smiled a little. “So, you sort of … shut him out, huh?”

“ _No_ – ” He let out an exasperated huff. “That’s not … what I _meant_ to do, sir. I just – ”

_Can’t. Every time I think maybe I should talk about it, I can feel the sobs takin’ hold of my throat._

“I’m not accusing you, Captain,” she added hurriedly, holding her hands up. “I don’t think my Master gets what wanting a little space means.”

_I don’t think I want space. I need him._

Rex’s eyes dropped to the floor. Tano took a step forward, and lightly touched his shoulder.

“You need to stop beating yourself up,” she murmured. “Even _I_ can sense how down you’re feeling.” His brows furrowed, internally cursing the kriffing Force. Tano just smiled more. “And, hey, if I can sense it, it must be ten times worse for Master Skywalker. _C’mon_ ,” she insisted, nudging his arm with a small fist. “I know it can be hard to talk about things, but you should give opening up a try, okay? Go talk to him. You mean a lot to him, believe me. He’s just … really, _really_ worried.”

_Seems like a dream to think that much of it, but I’ll take it. All I know are nightmares anyway._

“Sir, yes sir.” Then, a hint of a lop-sided smile. “You got it.”

###### //

“Look, sir, I was out of line yesterday. I know you were just tryn’a help, but I _swear_ I’m fine. Umbara’s got nothin’ … _kriff_.” Rex pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the place with his two fingers. “He’ll never believe that. _I_ don’t believe that – doesn’t sound right.”

The halls of the various levels of senator offices were considerably more compact and brightly colored than the halls of the Jedi Temple. A lot more people, too, and blue guards stationed at random doors. Somehow, it wasn’t any better. Less solemn, maybe, but still cold.

He was nearing Senator Amidala’s office already, and chose to slow his stride a lot to make the short distance last longer. Rex had made apologies before – formal apologies, battle-required apologies. Nothing _personal_ , unless it was to a brother. Everything he had attempted to mumble quietly to himself for practice didn’t sound right, or it sounded like an outright lie.

“General Skywalker, I’m here to … _to_ …” He pressed his lips tightly together, but nothing his mind could come up with was appropriate. It was too standard, too procedural.

_What the hell is appropriate for this, anyway?_

“Why can’t I _think_ of a damn thing?” he muttered, frowning.

One of the blue guards he passed turned their head towards him, and Rex cleared his throat, quickening his steps. He would just have to go with whatever immediately came to mind when he faced him. He had gone into trouble without a plan before, right? No big deal. Just routine _improvisation_. He could do that.

_Correction – I’ll do it when my hands quit shakin’._

The moment he came in front of the senator’s door, it had started, from the tips of his fingers down to the base of his palm. 

_Just do it, soldier. Get a grip._

_Defective._ Krell's voice, a whisper echoing around his skull. _Because I can - because you're inferior._

One tremoring finger hovered by the button that would signal to the inside that someone wanted in. At least there were no guards by this door to see how his breathing quickened slightly, or the way the hand in front of the button curled into a shuddering fist.

_It’s just General Skywalker. You know him. You’ve served with him since the beginning. He'll understand._

A noise from the inside, however, caught his attention. Rex’s eyes narrowed, instinctively tilting one ear towards the closed door.

“ … know you want me to do this, but Anakin, I _just_ don’t have the time.”

A female voice. Senator Amidala’s?

“Why not?”

Skywalker’s curt tone. It seemed like he _was_ there, but still spending time with the senator. Rex hesitated. Maybe he should leave them be, and come back another time. He didn’t want to be a bother, or _intrude_ on their time together. The ache in his belly gave a small pang.

_Yeah, their time._

“I … have other obligations, other duties,” she was saying. “You must understand – ”

“Well, _I don’t_.”

Rex knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping on them. He knew that, and yet _couldn’t_ get his legs to take the steps back they should.

_Maybe I’ll find the right place to cut in. I need to talk to him._

There was a female sigh, but it was Skywalker who spoke next. “He doesn’t have _anyone_ to represent him, Padmé. There’s no one to speak for him. Can’t you do something?”

“Can’t _you_?” came the brisk retort. “Anakin, I know you like this clone – ”

“Rex. His name is _Rex_.”

_Me? They’re talkin’ about me?_

Rex took a small step forward, holding his breath.

“Aren’t you taking this a bit far? You were on the subject of _Rex_ all night.” Her voice continued. “I don’t think he’ll get anything more than some duties on Coruscant for a while. He didn’t shoot Master Krell.”

A bit of silence - the sound of some shuffling. Then, the senator’s voice again.

“This … is supposed to be _our_ special time together, Ani.”

“I know, _I know_ , but Rex – ”

“Can’t you just unload the burden of your troops for a little while?” Amidala’s tone was a bit annoyed, but then it softened. “ … for _me_?”

“Look, Padmé …”

There was more silence. Rex didn’t hear another word.

_Burden, huh?_

His eyes lowered to the floor, then drifted to his helmet, which he had tucked under one arm. Bringing it forward, he held it in his hands, staring into the visor. His gaze traveled over the helmet slowly, to the _Jaig eyes_ painted towards the top. They represented honor, bravery. It shook in his hold.

_I don’t deserve that. Not right now._

“Captain Rex?”

It was a voice he didn’t recognize, coming from behind him. He turned, and was greeted by the sight of four blue guards standing at attention. The one who had caught his attention spoke again.

“We’re here to escort you to your cell at the military base. By order of the Chancellor, you will remain there till your hearing tomorrow.”

_Ah. I’m out of time._

Rex’s gaze fell back to his helmet, then to the closed door. He could see Skywalker’s face in his mind, haunting him, mixing in with Waxer’s, Fives’, and all of his brothers.

“Captain?” the guard began again. “You need to come with us.”

_I heard you the first time._

“Yeah, I’m _comin’_ ,” was his terse retort.

Bending down, with hands still quaking, he placed his helmet in front of the senator’s door.Embarrassment coiled within his chest.

_I’m sorry, sir. Not that you’ll hear it for a bit._

“No weapons?” the guard asked.

Rex shook his head blandly. “No, no weapons.”

Flanking him on all sides, the blue guards started walking, and Rex was forced to walk with them in the middle. The only comfort was the fact that they hadn’t cuffed him, not yet. He could leave with some dignity intact. As they came closer to the end of the hall, Rex gave one glance over his shoulder. A bit a ways away, he could still see his helmet sitting there, facing the door patiently all by itself. Then, they rounded the corner, and the sight was gone.

_Keep that for me._

The silence endured as he and the guards piled into one of the turbolifts.

 _He’s really, really worried about you._ That’s what Tano had said, but to Rex, it seemed the General was doing _perfectly fine_ with the senator. No worries or troubles there, not with their “special time”. What the hell did that mean, anyway?

_I’m not jealous. Jealousy would imply a whole lot’a other things that aren't right._

Still, the ache remained. It reminded him of a lingering wound, one deep inside him that refused to heal.

A transport was waiting for them on the platform as they made their way out, guarded by two other blues. One of the guards with him turned to him.

“Hold out your hands, please.”

Cuffs?

“ _Look_ , I can assure you that’s _not_ necessary – ”

“ _Hands_ , clone.”

Jaw clenching, Rex held out his hands as if his body gave him no choice but to obey. The cuffs were quickly and expertly locked into place, and one of the guards behind him nudged him forward by tapping the back of his leg with their foot. Once they had all approached the small, roof-less transport, two of the blues came up beside him, gripping his arms by the bicep and guiding him into a seat. Two sat in the front, then two sat on either side of him in the back. There was a low hum as the engines came to life, and then the transport lifted into the air.

When it reached a sizable distance from the ground, Rex peered over an edge, down at the platform.

_Skywalker._

The Jedi was standing in the center of it, staring up – staring _right_ at him. The other’s eyes invaded his amber ones the moment they connected. He looked … pretty damn upset. Rex could see he was holding his helmet tightly in one hand. His mouth was moving, too, as if he were shouting something, but Skywalker was already getting smaller and smaller by the second as the transport moved away, and he couldn’t hear a kriffing thing.

All that was left was what he saw – a pair of blue, blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separation helps love grow stronger. Perhaps it's something about the distance, an obstacle to overcome that ignites a fire inside and urges one's legs to conquer it. It's a challenge. It doesn't matter the type of distance - physical or emotional. It doesn't stop that connection from happening, from searing itself to one's body and mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _Well, you can try to sink down deeply._   
> 

“How’re you doin’ there, Dogma?”

A loud exhale. The trooper lifted his head from his hunched over position, sitting on the edge of the elevated slab. Rex supposed it was meant to serve as some sort of bench and a place to sleep, but the thing took up nearly half of their cell-space.

Dogma had a grim expression on his tattooed features.

_He always did look kind’a grim._

“I’m fine, sir,” was his monotonous response, lacking resoluteness.

Despite the two crimson ray-shields between them, Rex could still see the grimace tugging at his lips.

They had been placed in cells opposite of each-other and across a narrow, grey hallway. Everything was grey, from the walls to the sinks inside their cells that doubled as a toilet when it was flipped upside down. The red of the shields was the only spot of color in the whole prison, like a splash of human blood over a barren, lifeless ground.

Both of them had been stripped of their armor, and they each now sported grey body-gloves. Similar to the blacks they wore, save for the fact that it was _grey_ to match their prisoner status.

Rex couldn’t say he liked it one bit.

He never did feel comfortable in anything other than his armor. Cody had commented, with some amusement that reminded Rex _too much_ of Kenobi, that he seemed to practically live in it. He hadn’t been sure how to respond to that, because it _was_ true. What else was there for a clone to do besides fight? Besides run into a cluster-kriff of firing battle-droids? For that, he needed his armor. He didn’t have any other purpose. Wearing it felt as close to home and comfort as he would ever get.

In his black body-glove, he felt practically naked. In the grey? On display.

It was something Rex had noticed as he consciously took apart his armor piece-by-piece for the warden to put in a bin. That armor made him and his brothers look a lot bulkier than they really were. Puffed up, like prey trying seem bigger than the predator. In truth, he wasn’t _that_ muscled. Government rations and an increased metabolism by the Kaminoans made sure he didn’t have nearly any fat on his bones, and the muscle-mass that was supposed to make up for it didn’t quite fill him out. His body was dense, shaped just right to fit in any set of armor they handed to him, but it was _lean_. It was strictly regulated, just like every other part of himself and his existence.

With his armor on, he felt prepared and ready to take down anything that came at him. Without it? He was a clone with a body that had grown up too fast and could never quite catch up. Not a Captain, not a soldier. A little too close to what being really exposed might feel like, as if his own thoughts might be forced out in the open, too.

When there had been silence for a bit, Dogma spoke up.

“What about you, sir?”

_I don’t know, Dogma._

“Pretty good.” Rex shrugged. “You know, considerin’. Guess they could’ve just _shot us_ to save themselves the trouble, but they didn't.”

It was a lie, and supposed to be a joke, but Dogma seemed to catch neither. He just nodded understandingly, pressing his lips together in thought like Rex had meant every single damn word. Rex didn’t have the energy or the mood to tell him otherwise. He sat down on his own bench, sliding back till his shoulders hit the wall behind it. Tilting his head, he stared up at the ceiling – pointedly ignoring the whir of the camera above that was focusing in on him.

“Captain?”

Rex closed his eyes. “Just call me ‘Rex’, Dogma.”

“Look, you know I’m supposed to call you either ‘Captain’, or ‘sir’. You said so yourself.”

_Stow it, Dogma._

“Did I?” he mumbled, opening one eye to glance across at the other trooper. Dogma was nodding expectantly. It had been kriffing rhetorical. Rex closed his eye again, crossing his arms over his chest. “With the circumstances as they are, I’ll give you special permission to call me ‘Rex’, alright?”

_I’m not your Captain now._

“ _Uh_ – well … sir, I don’t think that _complies_ with regulations.”

_Really now? Don’t I know it._

Rex vaguely wondered if all of Dogma’s batchers were as dedicated as he was to the rules. He wasn’t sure if it was annoying or admirable.

When there had been another few minutes of silence, Rex heard Dogma’s voice again.

“If I may, sir, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, kid.”

“Why _didn’t_ you execute the General?”

Rex’s eyes opened instantly, his heart taking a leap within his chest. Dogma wasn’t done, however.

“I mean, there was nothin’ else we could do, right? Sure, it wasn’t exactly _following protocol_ , but – …” His voice faded, and he seemed to struggle over his next choice of words, mouth opening and closing without a damn sound. Rex could feel an uncomfortable lump forming in his throat. After a second or two, Dogma leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the slab. His tone was low, agitated. “He made us _murder_ our brothers, Captain. He made us shoot our own men. I – I must have _killed_ at least three.”

Rex tightened his arms over his chest.

“There’s nothin’ in the manuals or _anything_ they taught us to explain how to deal with killing one of our own.” Dogma stood, and began to pace back and forth in his cell. “We knew we couldn’t let him get into enemy hands, either. We needed to kill him – not just for the Republic, but for our _vod_ ,” he spat vehemently, shooting Rex a look.

Rex couldn’t meet his gaze.

_Don’t._

A sickening feeling was welling up in the depths of his stomach, feeding the sensation through his veins till the rest of his body felt heavy with it. Though Rex couldn’t see it, he could feel the shake beginning in his fingers behind his biceps, where he had tucked his hands.

 _I can sense your fear._ Krell’s voice sounded like it was pouring toxins into his head.

_We’re not droids – we’re not programmed. We have to learn to make our own decisions. Right?_

“So, why didn’t you?” Dogma insisted.

_Why didn’t I? It was my duty. I’m supposed to be loyal. It should’ve been nothin’._

Dogma had stepped up to the ray-shield, eyes concentrated on Rex. Rex made himself look at him, feeling his spine become rigid as each vertebrae locked itself in place.

“ _Why_ ,” Dogma began to repeat, in a harsh, edgy whisper, “didn’t you shoot him?”

There was a fraught silence. Dogma’s slow exhale. Rex could hear his heart pounding in his ears, like the rhythmic march of a soldier. _Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump._ It didn’t slow, almost seeming as if it were quickening it’s pace and charging onward.

 _You’re shaking, aren’t you?_ Krell’s phantom words, making his shoulders hunch slightly.

Rex wrenched his face away from Dogma’s, staring hard at a grey wall. It seemed even the wall, however, didn’t want to grant him any peace. He could see imaginary lines become Dogma’s empty expression, or Waxer’s tears. Then, the back of the Jedi’s head, the corners of a smirk peeking out that the large mouth he had made visible even though he was facing away.

“… sir?”

_Because, maybe I am inferior. Maybe it was a mistake. What’s the difference between loyalty and bein' clueless? Between a good soldier and some kriffing idiot that should’a stayed inside his tube?_

“Rex.”

Rex’s eyes cut towards the front of his cell.

Skywalker was standing there on the other side of the ray-shield – one arm at his side, the other with Rex’s helmet tucked under it. Those stormy blues were on him, staring as if they were trying to decode every part of him all at once. He wasn’t smiling, either, a glower on his pale face. Even with that look, Rex felt as if he could breathe again, letting the air out from his lungs with an unsteady breath.

_It’s got to be criminal how good it feels to see him._

“General. Good to see you,” he greeted slowly, moving off of the bench to stand.

“ _What_ ,” Skywalker snapped, holding up his helmet with one hand and giving it a shake. “ – is this?”

Rex lowered his eyes to look at it, then raised them back to Skywalker’s face. “My, _er_ , Republic-issued helmet, sir.”

“Exactly,” was the abrupt agreement. He lowered it, letting it rest against his thigh. “ _Yours_. Yet, here I am, with _your_ helmet. Care to explain to me why that is?”

“ … because I gave it to you, sir.”

“ _Rex_!” Skywalker barked, his expression darkening. Rex kept his own expression neutral, lips pressed together to form a thin line. “Not what I meant, and you know it.”

His grip was tight on the rim of the helmet now, Rex noticed. He could feel the weight of his emotions, too, as if he were leaking them into the air for him to feel. It reminded him of the sharp taste of blood in his mouth, and he swallowed. Maybe the guy didn’t realize just how much of the Force was oozing out of him.

_You won’t scare me, General._

Slowly, Rex took a step forward, till he was standing just as close to the ray-shield as Skywalker was. He could feel the thrumming electricity vibrate the air around his nose. It gave Skywalker’s eyes a red tint over the blue, but Rex made sure that he wouldn’t allow himself to shy away from looking at them this time.

“You have my helmet, sir, because I _failed_ in my duty as your Captain.”

“Rex –” Skywalker had begun to protest, his tone pleading, but Rex quickly interrupted.

“ _Just_ ... hear me out, sir,” he murmured. His eyes drifted to the Jedi’s lips, which were now frowning, then back up to his baffled gaze. Rex hid his shaking hands by folding them behind his back. “It was my duty as Captain to be loyal, but to also protect my men. _Your men_ , sir.” Skywalker’s vexed expression had lessened some, despite his displeasure. “They were relying on me to keep them alive, and …” Rex hesitated, clearing his throat at the way the Jedi’s eyes had narrowed. A silent disagreement before he had even finished. “I was following Krell’s orders, even the one that called for Fives and Jesse to be executed.”

Rex could feel, through the ray-shield, Skywalker’s soft breaths on his face. His tone had dropped considerably, and instinctively, it seemed they both had edged closer.

“… you know what those markings mean on my helmet, sir?” he asked lightly.

Skywalker nodded. “Yeah, I was with you when you got them. They’re for doing something brave and honorable.” His brow creased in realization, adding fervently, “Which you _deserve_.”

“Nah.” Rex shrugged stiffly. “Not right now. That was a different guy, sir. He would’ve been able to go through with his own orders and executed the General no problem. He would’ve been able to do that for his men.”

_I don’t know who I am right now. I don’t feel right._

“So,” Skywalker mumbled after a moment. All the arguments he wanted to start could been seen clearly with the way the muscles of the Jedi’s face tightened. “What are you saying? You _don’t_ want to be my Captain anymore?” His voice was a whisper now, eyes searching Rex’s with a muted desperation despite the even tone.

_I’ll never leave you. Never. Not that._

“I’ll always – _always_ be your Captain, sir,” Rex breathed quickly, almost stumbling over the startling passion that flowed into each quiet syllable. “I’m not sayin’ I won’t. That’s _not_ what I meant. I – I didn’t mean what I said yesterday, either.” He was rambling now, and he clamped his mouth shut with a discouraged exhale and a scowl.

_Let’s try that again._

“General.” They were both so close to the ray-shield now that he was impressed neither of them had gotten shocked yet. “Every … _part_ of who I am is yours.” A warmth was spreading from the center of his chest, mixed with a rush of devotion he couldn't exactly identify that seemed to fill his mouth to the brim. “My name, my life – everything’s _yours_. I’m your Captain. I’m not going to _stop_ bein’ your Captain.”

There was a beat where it was just their breaths bouncing back and forth between each-other. A blue fire was in those Jedi’s eyes, and Rex felt the air catch in his throat, a powerful squirm making its way down his form. His voice dropped to a low murmur, barely audible to his own ears, but he knew the other could hear it.

_I ..._

“I trust you, sir.”

_I …_

“I trust you to hold onto that for me for now.”

_I feel off._

“Yeah … sure thing,” came Skywalker’s distractedly mumbled reply.

Silence. Inhale, exhale.

Skywalker’s eyes peered into his own. It was just the sound of his heart thudding against his chest, and the electricity against his face. Inhale, exhale. Skywalker’s lips parted just slightly, forming a tiny pucker. Rex felt his gaze drawn to it, his own jaw relaxing. Inhale, exhale. A heat that threatened to make him sweat, the body-glove feeling like it was too constricting over his torso. He wanted to be wearing anything other than it in that moment. Something less vulnerable, less baring.

_If I leaned in just a little closer –_

Suddenly, with a visible tremor, Skywalker looked away, taking a hurried step back and clearing his throat.

_Ah, okay._

Rex felt out of breath, blinking as he took in several deep inhales. What the hell was that? How was he supposed to rationalize _that_ moment? Forcing himself to take a step back to add to the distance between them, Rex coughed awkwardly, squeezing his hands into fists behind his waist.

Skywalker immediately spoke up, as if it were a race to get out all that he wanted to say as fast as he could.

“I’ll, _uh_ … get you help, Rex,” he was insisting hurriedly. “You and … Dogma.”

_Kriff. I forgot he was even here._

Dogma was staring blankly at both of them.

Skywalker continued. “I know the Chancellor pretty well, I’ll … talk to him about it. Maybe he can do something. Either way – ” He was speaking much too loudly now, and Rex grit his teeth. “You – _you two_ – won’t be alone. I won’t let anything bad happen, I swear it.”

The only thing Rex could do was make himself nod mutely.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow, troopers,” Skywalker promised with uncharacteristic formality, and then, once he had nodded rigidly at Dogma, he strode quickly out of view.

Rex could practically touch the thick, uncomfortable silence that lingered for the next minute. Dogma had settled on staring intently at him now. It made Rex feel absolutely kriffing exhausted.

“ _So_ …” Dogma dragged out the single syllable thoughtfully, tilting his head. “I’ve got a question, sir.”

_I’m sure you do._

“Yeah?”

“Do you have _feelings_ for General Skywalker?”

Dogma might as well have shot him with a blaster.

Rex slowly sat down on the bench, his mind racing. Feelings? For the General? That couldn’t be right. It wasn’t as if clones couldn’t feel love, sure, but for a Jedi of all people? Skywalker?

Those intense blue eyes of the man immediately became forefront in Rex’s mind, and he almost shivered.

_You’re afraid._

“Sir?” Dogma pressed. “Between us brothers. Do you?”

Pulling his legs up, Rex laid back on the hard slab, purposefully avoiding Dogma’s face as he crossed his legs at the ankles and rested his hands on his stomach.

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are hugely appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love can be divided into two categories - love at first sight, and gradual love. Of these branches, gradual love is the most arduous. Every word and every touch is a new challenge. Their meanings can change over time, and what one thought they might have conquered needs re-claiming. The embrace is a tangle of limbs being brought back to life. A word of warning - in gradual love, it can easily kill another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _Find those who were discreetly killed in infancy._   
> 

That morning, there wasn’t any light to greet Rex when his eyes drifted open, just the luminescent red of the ray-shield.

Groaning lowly, he closed them again.

He had been up for an hour or so, laying still with his eyes closed as he listened to Dogma’s rumbling snores. There wasn’t any indication of what time it was. Rex didn’t have the damnedest clue whether Coruscant’s single sun had risen, or if it was still pitch black outside.

What little sleep he had managed to get had left him dizzily disorientated and chilled right down to the marrow of his bones. Though his dream had been, much to his immense relief, word-less, the images hadn’t been any less disturbing. Somehow, the silence had made it worse. All he could remember was fog – lots of fog, the dense branches of trees overhead, and running. Every now and then, he had stumbled over something beneath the mist. He never did stop to find out what it was. Frankly, he didn’t want to know.

Not that it was _much_ of a mystery.

Rex sighed quietly, moving to lay on his back instead of his side as he draped an arm over his eyes, letting it rest there limply. Death wasn’t the only thing on his mind at the moment, despite its ever-looming presence in the closeted shadows of his thoughts.

 _Do you have feelings for General Skywalker?_ Dogma could have a pretty blunt mouth, but that was the last thing that Rex had expected to come out of it.

_That’s ridiculous. Don’t know where he got such an imaginative idea._

He did, though. Intent on denying it, maybe, but he knew.

He could still see Skywalker’s face as clearly as if it was still right in front of him. It wouldn’t be easy to forget with how kriffing close it had been to his own.

“Hey, Rex. Up and at ‘em.”

Rex opened his eyes, grunting as he propped himself up on his elbows. Commander Fox was standing on the other side of the ray shield, two other brothers with him. Fox motioned at something off to the side, and one of the troopers took a step forward. There were a few muted _beeps_ , and after a stuttering flash or two, the ray-shield evaporated. The other trooper did the same with Dogma’s cell. The guy was up and not _snoring_ anymore, at least. Rex stood, rolling his shoulders back as the bones popped. Resting on that slab had created a multitude of aches he wasn't looking forward to having.

“Nice to see you, Fox,” Rex murmured, stepping up to him. He couldn’t see the other’s expression through his helmet, but he was given a nod.

“Never thought I’d see _you_ here, Rex,” the Commander admitted. “Ready for your hearing?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Got a plan?”

“Nah.”

Fox snorted. “Figures.”

“Commander Fox, sir!”

Fox turned, and Rex peered over his shoulder, tilting his head. Dogma was standing behind them at attention and saluting. Rex exhaled, resisting the urge to shake his head slightly. Fox sounded somewhat amused when he answered him.

“At ease, Dogma. So, decided you couldn’t leave your Captain to face me here on my own turf alone, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” Dogma answered readily. He had dropped the arm, but he still stood ramrod straight. Fox chuckled, and Rex had to look away due to the feeling of exasperation that was making his neck feel warm beneath the body-glove. The two other troopers nudged each-other with quiet snickers.

_Someday, Dogma, someday. Someday they’ll come out with special muzzles for clones. I just have to hope._

“Alright, _alright_ ,” Fox announced, looking over at the two who instantly stood at attention once the Commander’s visor landed on them. “Enough goofin’ off back there, this isn’t break-time. We’ve got to hand them over to the blues for their court date.”

Rex blinked. “You’re not takin’ us there?”

Fox shook his head, sighing. “Nah, the Chancellor kind’a trades off between who does what. He really likes the blues and reds over us.”

_Oh, the red guards._

“Sorry about this Rex – Dogma – but I’ll need you both to hold out your hands.”

Fox did sound apologetic, at least, but the action only added to the gloom Rex was beginning to feel. The slight smile that had started to grow on his face disappeared.

Once he and Dogma had been cuffed, they were led out by Fox with the two troopers walking behind them. It was a pretty short trip in their company. They had only left the prison area and made it down two or three hallways when the same four blues from the day before stepped out in front from around a corner.

“Commander Fox,” one acknowledged, nodding his head. Fox nodded back. Rex gave the Commander one last glance as they were herded over, wanting to knock that helmet off of his head just so he could see his expression instead of his own reflected back at him from the visor.

Dogma, meanwhile, acted the part of the perfect prisoner. Rex could have hit him over the side of his head, too.

_You’re afraid._

It only took a few more turns before the door that led into the courtroom was suddenly right in front of his face. It _swished_ open without a moment’s hesitation, giving Rex zero time to mentally prepare before he felt a nudge against the back of his knee, and he had to move forward.

The large room had to be the most intimidating space Rex had ever come across, even more-so than the Jedi Council room, which was saying something. It was square-shaped, with tiny slits of light adorning every wall, varying in size and the space in-between. There was another nudge to the back of his knee – _harder_ , more impatient this time, and Rex felt his jaw clench as he quickened his steps onto the elevated path-way that led to the circle-shaped hover-platform at the end.

_Where’s General Skwywalker?_

The platform wasn’t the only thing at the end, however. Rex could see Supreme Chancellor Palpatine high above the rest of the court, with a red guard on either side of him. That area was comprised of three, block-like levels. The one in the center, the highest, was where the Chancellor’s chair was. The one on the left, the lowest of the three, was vacant, and the one on the right was where Mas Amedda stood. The walls on either side had rows of seats cut into them. One top row was empty. The bottom rows were where officers – his brothers – dressed in grey uniforms sat, silent. The middle rows were occupied by some senators. Rex recognized a few by way of their faces, but he didn’t know their names. Maybe one or two.

It was different than going into battle. The stillness and damning silence of the big room made it feel emptier than it really was, as if he and Dogma were the only two in it. There wasn’t the clank of battle-droids, the sound of shots fired, or the pressure of a mission. Just uncertain dread.

The only thing that seemed to remain the same was their lives being at stake.

_Just another day fightin’ for them._

The Chancellor had a pleasant smile on his face as Rex stepped onto the hover-platform, suddenly feeling as if dark hands were on his shoulders, pushing. He only vaguely acknowledged Dogma stepping on behind him. As the platform silently moved forward, closer to the three levels, but still far below, the Chancellor’s smile seemed to curl. It made Rex stand a little straighter, willing himself not to shudder.

_General Skywalker will come. I know he will._

Taking in a deep breath, Rex held his chin up at a dignified, attentive angle. Dogma, who had moved up beside him, gave him one look, and then copied him.

Silence. Heart-thudding, adrenaline-pumping, silence.

The Chancellor took a step forward towards the railing of his level.

“CT-7567,” he began in a languid tone, “and – ”

“ _Dogma_ ,” Rex cut in before he could think, his voice terse. Whispers broke out among the senators, and he pressed his lips together.

“… _Dogma_ ,” the Chancellor allowed with a sickly graciousness that made Rex feel ill. “You are both hereby charged with insubordination, and the carrying out of the execution of Jedi Master Pong Krell _without_ due process, abusing your rank and power within the Republic and the law itself.” He waved a thin hand towards the empty row of seats. “The Jedi Council will not be present during this hearing, as they have withdrawn any accusations of guilt or mis-use by you and your fellow clone. Master Skywalker has offered to make your case to the court, with my approval.” Rex glanced around instantly, lips parting with a hopeful mutter. 

_Kriff. Still don’t see him._

His head slowly lowered, expression blanking. Dogma whispered something to him, but he didn’t hear it.

The invisible hands on his shoulders seemed to become heavier.

 _You’re shaking, aren’t you?_ Rex wanted nothing more than to blast Krell’s voice from his head.

“However,” Chancellor Palpatine continued, giving a small, careless shrug. “I do not see him here, so we will just have to continue on without him. This court, comprised of myself and senators of the Republic, will decide your fates. I leave the floor open to whomever wishes to begin the arguments. Those who fund the creation of clones and thus have a stake in their actions are … _encouraged_ to speak.”

Rex lifted his head, glancing towards the senators as they collectively murmured to themselves. The noise was an incessant pressure building in his ears. Rex flexed his hands against the cuffs, shoulders hunching up in a half-attempt to muffle the sound. He glanced at Dogma from the corner of his eye. His brother seemed frozen in place, staring straight ahead with a glassy gaze.

_I can’t let Dogma down. I have to stand tall, for him. For General Skywalker._

For a moment, he let blue eyes and confidently grinning lips fill his head. Then, letting out a slow exhale, Rex dropped his shoulders, mimicking Dogma’s forward stare.

“You’ll be alright, Dogma,” he murmured under his breath. The only reaction he caught from the other was the corners of his mouth tightening.

“Why are we bothering?”

The senators’ humming voices stopped.

Rex looked up, brows raising. Halle Burtoni, the senator for Kamino and the only one Rex had really recognized, had stood. Her long, lavender neck arched out as she addressed the court.

“I’ll say it again – _why_ are we bothering? Why not just replace them?” Burtoni insisted, as if it was a casual conversation about tossing out pieces of garbage. Rex felt the warmth drain from his face, and then the rest of his body. If Dogma’s stunned expression was any indication, his own brown face had paled considerably. Cold. “They’re all the same, I can guarantee you that,” she was saying. “They’re just clones.”

_Just clones. Identical and insignificant, huh?_

Rex’s hands curled into tight, white-knuckled fists.

“With all due _respect_ – ” he had started to object fiercely, but Mas Amedda cut him off.

“Quiet,” was the Chagrian’s sharp command. Against his will, Rex’s jaw clamped shut.

Obedient, even then.

Burtoni had a simpering smile on her white face. “I _just_ don’t get why we’re wasting time with them. All you have to do is send them back to Kamino, and we’ll … take care of them for you. They’re obviously defective in some way.”

 _Defective_. Rex felt dazed.

“How do we know CT-7567’s report is accurate, anyway? He could just be _lying_ to protect the other clones. They get like that, you know.” She shook her head, as if it were a damn tragedy. “Sometimes, it happens. We do our best, of course, but some of the batches can go bad. We’ll never know for sure if Master Krell was really evil, like the clones claim.”

Clones, clones, clones.

 _What’s the point of all this?_ That's what he had said to Fives.

“Captain?” Dogma whispered hoarsely. Rex didn’t respond.

_After everything, what are we?_

The heaviness of his shoulders felt like AT-RT walker was pressing one of its legs down on him. The senators were exchanging looks, and he could see some of them nodding doubtfully.

_Loyal, or pointless?_

All Rex could do was stand resolutely tall with his head held high, face drained of color.

_Be a strong soldier, Rex. Think of Skywalker. Warm touches an’ lively expressions. Why isn’t he here?_

“I say,” Burtoni averred, and Rex held his breath. “That we put them down, and send out another two clones. I – ”

“Chancellor Palpatine!”

With a sag of his shoulders, Rex exhaled.

Skywalker. _Anakin_.

The Jedi was taking long strides across the path, an expression of determination and an apologetic smirk on his face. Rex could have punched him and kissed him at the same time.

Kissed him?

“I apologize for being late,” he announced loudly. "Just had to finish getting a bit of support first." It always seemed like he needed to have all eyes on him, and Rex couldn’t help the slight, relieved grin. “If the Chancellor will let me, I’m here to defend my troopers.”

Chancellor Palpatine seemed less than perturbed, simply nodding his head with an aimless gesture of both arms. “Master Skywalker – how _nice_ of you to join us. Go ahead.”

Skywalker cleared his throat. “Senators – Captain Rex has served as my Captain since the beginning of the Clone Wars. He’s been both honorable, and brave.” Skywalker’s gaze fell on him. “He’s one of the _bravest_ men I’ve ever known.”

Rex’s eyes widened a fraction.

_Kriff._

“You won’t find a better Captain. Don’t believe me?” It was then that Rex noticed Skywalker still had his helmet with him. He held it up, and the senators leaned out of their chairs to look. “See those markings? Those are _Jaig eyes_ , a sigil awarded by Mandalorians for being courageous. They don’t hand that out to just anyone.”

He was staring at him. Skywalker’s eyes should have been on the senators he was addressing, even the Chancellor, but they were on _Rex_. He felt trapped in that blazing gaze, unable to break it.

“Rex is dedicated to the mission _and_ his men. You better believe he works hard to make sure they come back alive. No one works harder – no one’s more loyal. No man deserves the title more than he does.”

_Kriff. Kriff!_

Skywalker’s face was full of veneration as that smirk slowly became a beaming smile. For a moment, the darkness that seemed to constantly try to pull Rex to pieces was gone. He relaxed his hands, ignoring the throb of his palms from the absent press of his nails. All he could feel was Skywalker. Just him. Just the adoration in his mouth that made Rex see himself as bigger than he ever had.

_I want to kiss him._

Their eyes met. Skywalker’s never left, and Rex couldn’t look away.

“He’s my Captain,” Skywalker continued confidently. “Y’know, I don’t think I know what I’d do without him, Chancellor.”

Rex felt his own lop-sided smile broaden.

Senator Burtoni was sitting back down with a scowl. The Chancellor seemed mildly pleased.

“What are you suggesting, Master Skywalker?” 

“If I may, Chancellor.” A new voice. Rex turned his head, breaking from Skywalker’s look to see Senator Amidala approach. Skywalker had turned to face her as well, and the smile on his face softened. A small pang throbbed in Rex’s chest.

_What is she doin’ here? Didn’t she say she couldn’t help?_

“Senator Amidala,” Chancellor Palpatine greeted hesitantly. "The support, I presume."

“I have a proposition for the court to consider,” she continued smoothly. “Let them both serve a month away from the war. Clone trooper Dogma can work with sanitation and maintenance on Kamino.” At the mention of his name, Dogma stood a little straighter, relief obvious in his posture. The rest of the senators seemed interested. “Captain Rex may serve as a part of my personal guard during his month – ”

“Under _my_ supervision, of course,” Skywalker cut in, throwing a grin over at Rex. Rex raised an eyebrow, blinking. What was the General up to? “Just to make sure he behaves and is ready to return to the war after.”

The Chancellor hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll put it to a vote, then."

It didn’t take long. A minute or two later, Mas Amedda approached him with the results. Despite everything and the hope practically _radiating_ off of Skywalker, Rex felt tension grip his muscles. It seemed a dozen rotations had passed before the Chancellor finally spoke.

“The majority is in agreement.” Rex exhaled, his eyes closing for a moment. The Chancellor went on. “The clone ‘Dogma’ will serve a month on Kamino, and the clone ‘Rex’ will be assigned to Senator Amidala under Master Skywalker’s watchful eye. As the sentences seem sufficient penitence, the charges will be dropped.”

There was no resounding applause or cheers, just the quiet shuffle of the senators standing and slowly exiting. To Rex, they may as well have been ghosts floating away. The Chancellor and his red guards disappeared from view, and the hover-platform he and Dogma stood on slowly moved back to the end of the elevated path.

Skywalker was standing there impatiently – Rex guessed it was because of how _slow_ the platform was moving. The Jedi had his arms crossed over his chest, and he was tapping one foot, mumbling something to Amidala that Rex couldn’t hear, and didn’t want to.

_Done enough eavesdropping around them._

Dogma was eager to hurry on ahead with the blues as soon as the hover-platform connected with the path. Amidala walked behind the guards, and he and Skywalker brought up the rear. Neither of them followed after immediately, though. For a moment, they simply stood staring at each-other.

Even though Rex very adamantly did not want to think of their awkward moment from the day before, it was the only thing in his mind now.

 _Do you have feelings for General Skywalker?_ Shut up, Dogma.

Suddenly, Skywalker leaned down. His face became dangerously close to Rex’s, and for half a second, Rex's mind short-circuited, wondering with some amount of _panic_ if the guy was going in for a kiss. A tense second passed. Then, he felt warm arms wrap around him, squeezing him firmly to the man’s chest. Rex went completely, utterly still.

“Good to have you with me again, Rex,” the Jedi murmured quietly against his ear. He could hear what he severely hoped was fondness in Skywalker’s voice.

With the cuffs around his wrist, there wasn’t much he could do – not that his racing mind could come up with anything for a good minute. All he could comprehend was the way he could feel Skywalker’s heart beating. His own was thudding at a pace that made Rex want to _hide_ somewhere. He knew the Jedi could feel it, if he could feel his. Slowly, as if any quick movements might ruin the moment and he would wake up back in prison, Rex rested his cheek on Skywalker’s shoulder, exhaling warmly against the crook of his neck.

_Maybe he forgot what happened yesterday._

The way the Jedi’s arms tightened and the _quiver_ that shook both of them said Rex was very, very wrong.

Rex squeezed his eyes shut.

_Can’t believe Dogma realized it before I did._

“Wouldn’t find me anywhere else, General.”

Over Skywalker’s shoulder, Rex could see Senator Amidala watching them.

###### //

Dogma was to head to Kamino with Senator Burtoni. Rex had his doubts – hell, a lot of doubts – but Skywalker assured the both of them that he would be checking up on Dogma.

“Don’t worry about a thing, either of you,” the General promised.

“Any last orders for me, sir?” Dogma prodded, and Rex almost swore that his eyes were begging.

Skywalker grinned. “Try to loosen up some while you’re there.”

Dogma frowned. Rex snorted, quickly covering the noise with one hand over his mouth.

Once the ship had taken off, the Jedi turned his attention to Rex. 

He couldn’t even began to try to describe the sensation between them now, or try to figure out just what that hug had been. Rex had never been hugged before – not in that way, at least. Not in a way that made him feel like every part of him was threatening to go limp.

_Maybe it’s a Force thing. Please, kriff, let it be a Force thing._

What had broken them apart was Amidala clearing her throat. Skywalker had quickly let go of Rex as if he had been shocked, rambling immediately to the woman about how grateful he was for her support. Rex had worked diligently to keep himself from blushing even a smidgen, blocking out their conversation.

“Make sure you get some rest, Rex.” Skywalker’s tone was surprisingly serious despite his teasing moments before, and Rex stood a little straighter.

“Yes, sir.”

“Ah-ah, let me finish!” There it was. He was grinning widely now. “Because, me and you are heading _out_ tomorrow night.”

“ _Ah_ … heading out?” Rex’s brows furrowed.

“Yup,” Skywalker chirped. “Got some brothers of yours I know are very eager to see you before you start your new duties.”

_Oh. Well, alright. A night out with the General … and my brothers._

“Go on, go on,” the man urged, eyes practically glimmering with excitement. Rex couldn’t help smiling a little at that face. It was one that made him look young. “Go get some sleep. The temple’s letting you stay in my old room again tonight.”

“ _Er_ … you got it, General.”

Skywalker sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll get my name out of you somehow, Rex.”

Rex chuckled. “You can try, sir.”

_It’ll be easier than you think._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! I love getting feedback on how I'm doing, or how the story is making you feel. Every bit of it is motivation for me to continue planning and posting chapters.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkness, **noun** ; 1. Something terrifying and cold, lurking behind every corner with a threat between each sharp tooth that just as easily could tear someone in two. An ending, a haunting. 2. Clarifying, calming. Allowing something to shine that would not be seen otherwise, and offering silent knowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _How can I decide what's right when you're clouding up my mind? I can't win._   
> 

“It’s definitely a different look for you, Rex.”

Rex decided then that Commander Tano was, in fact, laughing at him. Maybe not openly so, but he could hear it in her voice, and her smile was just a bit too wide. It didn’t particularly bother him. He might have thrown in a chuckle or two himself if he wasn’t busy trying to comprehend the practicality of the Naboo Security Force’s uniform.

It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable. The material was soft, and lighter than anything Rex was used to wearing. Most of it seemed for show rather than any kind of protection, however, and he attributed the weightlessness of it to being because there wasn’t a single piece of _armor_. The boots were shin-high, and the trousers were loose around his legs. It tightened up as it got to his waist, but in his book, that didn’t excuse it. The long-sleeved shirt was of the same material, with a high collar that left it bunched up beneath his jaw. Elbow-length gloves adorned both of his hands, and a sleeve-less vest went over the shirt, held down by the belt.

While the whole thing seemed rather frivolous, the style itself wasn’t what Rex really disliked.

“I … can’t say I’m fond of the _color_ ,” he admitted dryly, motioning with one gloved hand down at the varying shades of a brown-like orange. “I think I’d prefer blue.”

Tano laughed, bouncing off of the bed. “Aw, c’mon, Captain! We match now.”

She held out her arm, nudging her elbow into his side as she compared her Togrutan skin to the color. Rex grunted at the prod, but he had to admit it was a pretty close match. His was just ugly.

They were in Rex’s borrowed room at the temple, an hour or so before Skywalker claimed he was coming to pick Rex up for their “night out”. Given that the General was rarely on-time, Rex could confidently add another fifteen minutes max to that time-frame. 

The uniform had managed to arrive before he did, with Tano as its deliverer. She, of course, had seemed pretty eager to see him in it. Rex had felt the exact opposite, and still felt the same way after it was put on.

“Besides,” she was saying, wrinkling her nose. “I think the helmet’s worse.”

_Have to agree with you there._

If he had been unsure if the whole thing was practical or simply fashionable, he wasn’t now, and the conclusion _wasn’t_ the former.

Rex didn't have even a guess as to why the back needed to look like the wing of a ship, but regardless, he was going to wait to put it on until he absolutely had to. For now, it sat abandoned on the low table.

“So,” Tano ventured, “you make things up with Master Skywalker?” She tilted her head, her two front lekku drifting to one side. Rex stiffened. She seemed to take that as a “no”, because she then added a tentative, “… or not?”

“We … made things up,” he answered cautiously, turning away to stare at the table instead of where she stood in front of the bed.

_Nearly made out, but yeah. Close enough._

Pretending to keep himself busy, he slid off the gloves, setting them down beside the helmet. When he finally gave the Togruta a glance, one white marking had arched higher than the other above her eyes. She seemed to believe him. Doubting him a little, probably, but not questioning his answer. It wasn’t as if it was a _lie_ , but the more Rex thought about it, the more confused and uncertain he felt. Something had changed between them, that much was obvious. Was it just on his side, or did Skywalker feel it too?

He frowned, his brows pinched together.

Tano sighed. “ _Men_ ,” he heard her mutter, before he felt a hand on his shoulder. Slowly, with a quiet exhale, he turned to face her.

“Whatever’s going on between you two will work out, okay?” she murmured gently. Rex could only offer a lame nod.

_If you knew what I wanted, kid, you wouldn’t be sayin’ that._

Still, he offered a tense, “Thanks.”

Her hand had started to drop from his shoulder, but suddenly, she gripped his bicep tightly, eyes darting up to him with an intensity that caused Rex to blink. She stared, her wide gaze locked on his face. For a moment, Rex felt genuine _fear_ freeze his veins, like he had swallowed a mouthful of ice.

Cold, dark.

 _I can sense your fear._ That Basalisk’s voice in his head. _Clone._

As suddenly as she had grabbed him, she let go, taking an unsteady step back.

“Rex,” she whispered breathlessly. “ _There’s_ …”

Her voice faded away, and only when she didn’t finish her sentence for another minute did Rex find his own.

“… there’s _what_? Commander Tano?”

Then, the feeling was gone.

The room was light and warm. Tano’s slightly paled complexion was the only remnant of that moment. Finally, she spoke, shaking her head fiercely till her head-tails bounced against her shoulders.

“Nothing,” she said hastily. “Nothing, I _just_ … thought I sensed something dark, for a moment.”

###### //

As Rex had estimated, Skywalker arrived about fifteen minutes later to pick him up than he said he would be. Rex didn’t mind. It was just how the General was. Once he had slid into the seat beside him in the taxi, the Jedi announced, with more enthusiasm than was really due, that they were going to 79’s.

_I figured as much._

Regardless, Rex made himself mimic Skywalker’s light-hearted grin with his own, admittedly not as light crooked one.

The clone bar was even less grand than it sounded, and its reason even dimmer. Most of the bars didn’t want clones as customers. Correction – _all_ of them didn’t want any.

When the war had first began and his brothers had started showing up on the streets, they were encouraged to come into bars and other similar places. He guessed the owners first saw it as a chance to get some good revenue. They were a novelty, something new and shiny to _gawk at_ and point and whisper. Then, more showed up. A few more. A lot more. At one point, whole bars would be filled with just clones. Rex figured that’s where they drew the line.

Now, clones were banned from entering any of those places. Nobody wanted them there. That was when 79’s opened.

Whenever a _vod_ was off-duty, 79’s was the place to go.

A lot of them seemed under the naïve impression that going there meant the chance of meeting someone and hooking up. Sure, the occasional Twi’lek wandered in, but they never did come back after. Rex had gone there with Jesse once, and his brother had taken it upon himself to tell him everything about it, including the rumors. Apparently, the word was, been with _one_ clone in bed, been with them _all_. It seemed their lack of recognized individuality went all the way to their dicks.

Those with sexual experience among their ranks were rare.

Rex wasn’t one of them.

_Most intimate I’ve been is with my hand in the ‘freshers._

“Hey, we’re here!” Skywalker nudged his arm, grinning broadly.

_Jerkin' off is not what I should be thinkin’ about right now. Kriff no._

Rex had been relieved, at least, that the Jedi hadn’t commented about his new clothes. Not yet.

The obnoxious yellow and pink sign flashed above the open entrance to the bar, which was filled to the brim with his brothers. Most of them were greys – the navigators, technicians, those who worked the ships and rarely saw any in-their-face combat – with a few soldiers scattered among them, still in their armor. As he and Skywalker made their way up to it across the platform, they passed several plastered men who hollered out a slurred, “General!” before cackling to themselves and piling into the nearest transport. Rex cringed, ducking his head down. Skywalker, however, seemed to be having the time of his _life_ , much to Rex’s amazement. He even waved at them, laughing loudly while he did so.

“Damn,” he sniggered. “Sometimes, I think the Jedi could do with their own bar.”

Rex raised an eyebrow. “Are the Jedi even _allowed_ to drink?”

Skywalker shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes that made Rex clear his throat. “It’s not _recommended_ , but you know me. I hope you’re not planning to tell Obi-Wan on me, Rex,” he teased, smirking as he cocked his head to the side, giving Rex a long glance. “I might have to take a picture of you in this outfit to blackmail you, _just_ in case.”

Rex made a face. “You wouldn’t _dare_ , sir.”

“I _will_ if you call me ‘sir’,” Skywalker admonished, rolling his eyes. “Lighten up. I thought you said on Umbara that you weren’t like Dogma anymore. You’re having fun, whether you like it or not.”

Before he could protest, Skywalker had grabbed his wrist, and pulled him at an alarmingly fast pace into the bar.

It was just as loud as the first time Rex had gone in.

Besides the two or three other species on the dance-floor or by the bar itself, it was all his brothers. The dim lights gave everything a purple-ish tint, contrasting with the neon green ads that guaranteed their drink would get them drunker. It was so loud, in fact, that Rex couldn’t hear the music. He could feel the bass against his boots, vibrating his lungs and his throat and making his skin tingle. He couldn’t place the tune, however, not that he or anyone else here knew music. Shouts mingled with yelled conversations was all there was.

Still holding onto him tightly, Skywalker expertly navigated the mass of bodies, pulling Rex with him at a speed that caused him stumble and knock shoulders with nearly _everyone_ they passed. The Jedi, however, with what Rex _had_ to believe was the Force, managed not to bump into a single person. He even answered every shouted, “Hey, it’s the General!” with his ridiculously amused, “At ease, men!”.

_Well, at least he’s enjoyin’ himself._

Rex smiled slightly.

“Sir!” he tried to yell above the din. Skywalker didn’t seem to hear him, and kept moving. Gritting his teeth, Rex attempted to catch his attention again. “Skywalker!” This time, he pulled against his hold on his wrist, too.

This seemed to catch his attention. He stopped, looking at Rex over his shoulder. His mouth moved, but whatever he was saying was lost in the noise of the bar.

Rex shook his head, brows furrowing in frustration. “I – I can’t _hear you_ , you’re going to have to – ”

Before he could finish, Skywalker tugged on him sharply. Rex lost his footing as he fumbled forward, gripping the General’s arm with his other hand and bumping into his chest. Skywalker laughed as Rex looked up with a somewhat betrayed expression, panting.

He couldn’t actually find the will to voice his complaints. Up close, Skywalker looked completely different under the purple light. His features were paler, and his hair was darker. The scar by one of his eyes was an other-worldly white, even lighter than his complexion.

The other leaned down a little so he could listen better, still chuckling. “Sorry. I couldn’t hear anything you were saying.”

Rex grumbled wordlessly, which only seemed to make the Jedi laugh more.

_Not too bad, bein’ here with him._

“C’mon, I didn’t take you for a sulker,” he joked playfully, lightly shoving him.

Rex glowered, but then he sighed, letting the expression fall away to a begrudging grin. He would not admit he was also _still_ gripping onto Skywalker for dear life. “Besides bein’ under attack from our own men, I just wanted to know what exactly we’re doin’ here.”

At this, Skywalker smiled. Rex felt his neck warm, the sensation threatening to creep up to his face.

“We’re here,” he began, speaking like a show-master with a sweep of his arm towards two of the tables. “ – for _this_.”

Rex looked, then felt his own smile stretch across his face.

Sitting at the two tables were Fives, Tup, Jesse, Kix, and even Cody, all grinning at him.

“I got Obi-Wan to let me borrow Cody for a bit,” Skywalker murmured against his ear. It caught Rex off-guard, and he could have moaned if he had any less self-control. He was feverishly glad that he didn’t. He was sure he had embarrassed himself enough for a lifetime.

_I need to get some restraint, kriff._

Skywalker was all but pushing him to the tables, and Rex was coerced by cheers and greetings in Mando’a to take a seat at the table Cody occupied alone. The General sat at the other table with the rest, who already had drinks in hand and were shoving one into the Jedi’s.

Cody was chuckling. “Rex, ol’ boy, _su cuy'gar_. It’s good to see you.”

Rex shook his head with some amount of disbelief, answering him in Basic. “Can’t believe I am, Cody.”

Cody moved to sit a little closer, lowering his voice. He didn’t have to much, if he was trying to be discreet – it seemed Jesse, after saying his hellos to Rex, was eagerly challenging the General to some drinking game that got Kix whooping loudly. Rex could only wonder who was paying for it all.

“How’re you doin’? Really,” the Commander murmured.

“Really?” Rex mused, just as quietly. “Alright. Gettin’ better, I think.”

“You’re still over-thinking the whole thing, aren’t you?”

Rex shrugged noncommittally. “I guess so. You’d know better than I would.”

His brother exhaled. “Rex, you _always_ let it get to you more than anyone else. Always have, always will. You never talk about it, either.”

That was motivation enough for a drink. Cody must have seen it on his face, because he stood, saying, “I’ll get us a few drinks. Somethin’ strong.”

“ _Stronger_ , Cody,” he mumbled, and the other laughed.

There was nothing better to do while he waited than watch Skywalker and the others. Kix was down for the count – he was resting his forehead against the edge of the table, shoulders swaying slightly. Tup seemed just about there. His eyes were watering like he were about to cry into the cup he was drinking from. Fives and Jesse were the only ones still visibly hanging on – apart from Skywalker. Rex watched with widening eyes as the man downed his cup without so much as a blink, slamming it back on-top of the table.

Rex observed even more closely as the Jedi’s tongue caught a stray drop of alcohol that was on his lower lip.

_Kriff. That’s cheating._

At what, Rex didn’t know.

“Here we go, Rex.”

Cody was back with their drinks – two tall glasses of something that was bubbling inside. When Rex didn’t tear his eyes away from Skywalker immediately, he felt the Commander nudge his leg under the table.

“Transmission for Rex,” Cody snorted, finally getting his attention and causing him to sharply turn his face away from the other table. “You there, vod?”

Rex cleared his throat, taking the glass with both hands. “Yeah, _yeah_ , I’m here.”

Cody grinned coyly, sipping from his own drink as Rex took down a large gulp. It burned his throat, and he coughed, hunching slightly over the table. His brother patted him on the back, and Rex harrumphed.

“Easy there. You wanted somethin’ strong.”

He shot Cody what was supposed to be a severely offended look, but the other only shrugged.

Taking a smaller sip this time, Rex, glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Skywalker again. Cody noticed, and Rex damned the fact that he did.

“You know,” he began slowly. Rex knew that tone, and he pursed his lips. “I think there’s somethin’ different between you and General Skywalker now. I almost thought you _jizzed_ your orange pants when he talked into your ear.”

“ _Shut it_ ,” Rex hissed, quickly glancing over at Skywalker again to make sure he hadn’t heard Cody’s kriffing loud mouth. The Jedi didn’t seem to have noticed, anyway. He was gulping down another drink while Jesse chanted heartily at him. Rex sighed in relief, then whispered harshly, “Can’t you lower your voice, Cody?”

“Kriff, you’re almost blushing. You finally realized it, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Rex snapped, scoffing. He downed another big swallow from his drink, ignoring the way it made his eyes water.

_What the hell does he mean, “finally”?_

“So, there we were,” Rex could hear Fives saying all of the sudden. “In those Umbaran fighters, tryin’ to keep them steady as we headed to their supply ship – ”

A sick, twisting feeling began in the pit of Rex’s stomach. He forced down another gulp of the drink.

“You do know what I’m talkin’ about,” came Cody’s voice, still talking to him. It sounded far-away. “I mean, didn’t you ever think about it, before now? You’re always near him, even in the middle of a fight.”

Another gulp.

“Imagine our surprise when we come upon that fight ragin’ up there!” Out of the corner of his eye, Rex could see Fives motioning in an animated way, the liquid sloshing out of his cup. Skywalker was listening attentively, his lips slightly parted with invested interest. “We had to sneak through real carefully – me, Jesse, and Hardcase.”

_Hardcase won’t come back, just like so many others._

Rex felt his abdominal tighten. The air felt too hot and thick with moisture.

Fog, fog everywhere.

Cody’s and Fives’ conversations seemed to trade off in his ears. Rex could hear Cody now.

“What are you going to do? You’ve got it bad.” Cody was shaking his head in a pitying way.

Fives had nearly spilled all of his drink. “We did just what you did when you were a kid, General. I could feel the heat of that blast on my ass as we flew out’a there – ”

It was getting hard to breathe. Rex thought that maybe his lungs were collapsing in on themselves. It seemed the only explanation.

 _You’re shaking, aren’t you?_ That whispered voice inside his head, a constant murmur. Another gulp of his drink, even though his shaking hand made half of it spill over the side of his face. Was the bar moving? Hell, it looked like it was spinning.

“Rex?” Cody asked, his tone concerned. “You alright? You don’t look so good. You’re paler than a Kaminoan.”

_I’m going to be sick._

Rex didn’t even realize he had stood up till he heard Jesse’s and Fives’ voice chime in with Cody’s.

“Rex?”

“Rex, what’s wrong?”

“You look pale, Rex.”

He didn’t respond, turning and shoving his way through the gyrating bodies till he got to the restroom door. It _swished_ open. Empty, he was relieved to notice, but that realization was the least of his worries as he stumbled his way into the nearest stall.

Rex dropped to his knees, gripping either side of the toilet as he heaved into it. 

Again. Again. _Again_.

He panted, listening to his gasps for air echo in the restroom as he vomited the drink, what he had consumed that day, and probably some of what he had the day before. His vision spun, and he squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the toilet till his fingers ached in protest and the muscles in his forearm begged for release.

Heaving, again.

After a few minutes and several vomit-less gags, Rex coughed. His throat felt raw and scratched, coated with the bitter taste of bile that made his empty stomach squirm. The toilet automatically flushed.

_Kriff._

Rex sagged bonelessly and breathlessly against a side of the stall, letting his head lean on it. It was cool against the thin sheen of sweat on his skin.

_I’m tired. Damn it. I need to get up, before –_

He heard the door to the restroom _swish_ open.

“… Rex?” came a cautious voice.

Always him, always there.

Humiliation flooded Rex, returning some of the color to his paled face. He was silent for a moment. Skywalker definitely knew he was in there. He could probably hear how loudly Rex was breathing. There was no point in staying quiet.

“Here,” Rex finally croaked, his shoulders flinching at the sound of his own voice.

The Jedi appeared instantly in front of his open stall, his expression apprehensive. Rex made an attempt to stand, but his legs felt as if they had been stripped of their muscles, and the bottoms of his boots shuffled pointlessly against the floor. The other moved forward without any hesitation, squatting down in front of him. He reached one arm around his waist.

“Let me help you up,” he murmured quietly, the muscles of his face taut with worry. Rex didn’t have much of a choice. Skywalker had pulled his arm over his shoulder and was standing up before he could respond, taking him with him.

He was very gentle, Rex noticed. With all his impulsiveness and rash behavior, he wasn’t aggressive, at least not right then. His arm was firm and unwavering as Rex focused on putting one boot in front of the other till they were out of the stall, tightening his hold around Skywalker’s shoulders.

_This is embarrassing. Great._

“How are you feeling?” the General asked softly.

Rex shrugged. It took a bit of effort, but he finally admitted, “ _Ah_ … could be better.”

Skywalker chuckled lightly, and Rex could feel his hand rubbing his side. It was soothing, and it coaxed out a quiet sigh. The Jedi kept it up.

_This probably isn’t necessary. It’s not like I’m wounded._

“Talk to me, Rex,” the other pleaded lowly. Rex could hear the blatant distress in his tone, and he hated the fact that _he_ had caused it. “Please? What happened back there?”

“Bad drink,” he muttered, but he knew the man didn’t believe him, not for a second. “I’ll be fine.”

_Let me enjoy this touch while it lasts._

The rub on his side had gotten a little rough. Rex, through his shirt, could feel the palm of Skywalker’s hand travel over his ribs, then down to his hips. Up, and down. Pressing, just a little. Rex made a noise in the back of his throat, exhaling.

For a moment, the hand paused – then it slowly continued.

Rex closed his eyes. It felt too good.

“I’m sorry.”

The hand stilled again.

“Sorry?” Skywalker sounded indignantly confused. Rex could imagine he was tilting his head. “What for?”

“Pretty sure I ruined our night out.”

Rex had meant it as a little bit of sarcasm, despite the guilt he really did feel. When the other didn’t respond right away, he opened his eyes. Skywalker was staring hard at him, his lips pressed together till the pink color had drained from them.

Kissable. Rex did his best not to look at them for too long.

Skywalker sounded upset when he finally spoke – his voice harsh, distraught, his hand now squeezing Rex’s side to the point it kind of _hurt_. “You didn’t ruin anything. Nothing’s your fault, Rex. I want you to get that.” He looked away suddenly. Rex worried for half a second that he had made his General _cry_ , but his eyes were mostly dry when he turned back to him, just intense. “Look, I – I don’t _mean_ to get mad. I know I’m getting angry.”

_What?_

Skywalker’s gaze dropped. “I got mad before, and I got mad now because I can … I can _feel_ your guilt, Rex.” His voice lowered, nearly a whisper, and Rex held his breath. “All the time, just this _guilt_ that you shouldn’t have. I should’ve stopped Fives from talking about Umbara. I’m the one who’s – ”

“ _Hey_ ,” Rex interrupted gently. Skywalker raised his eyes slowly, blue meeting amber. “Don’t you start apologizing. I don’t need to hear any of that from you.”

Rex felt as if his heart was going to break his ribs into several pieces. Skywalker smiled a little, and he could see the hope in his eyes. Rex squeezed his shoulder as the Jedi’s fingers loosened their press into his side, dropping instead to rest on Rex’s hip.

He swallowed.

Skywalker seemed like he was holding his breath.

“Rex? General?”

Cody’s voice.

They both separated at the same time, both just as quickly. Skywalker dropped his hand and took a step to the side, coughing into a fist. Rex quickly approached one of the sinks and turned the water on, cupping some in his hands and splashing his face.

_Too warm, too close. Think about other things, Rex. Cold water, General Yoda starin’ at you, Dogma’s snoring._

The door to the restroom slid open, and Cody peered inside.

Skywalker was doing what Rex could only call a weak imitation of nonchalance, his hands folded behind his back as he rolled from his heels to the balls of his boots. Rex was busying himself with swishing water in his mouth, and then spitting it out. It got rid of most of the sour taste.

Cody stared for a long moment before clearing his throat.

“You two alright in here?” he asked hesitantly. “The boys and I were startin’ to wonder.”

Both he and Skywalker nodded at the same time. At least only one of them spoke up, saving them from anymore embarrassment.

“I was just about to come out to tell you guys that I’m taking Rex home.”

Rex had to give Cody some credit. He was a lot more believable than Skywalker when he nodded as if he trusted every syllable. “Rex isn’t feelin’ well?”

“’Fraid I’m not,” Rex interjected. “That drink was a little too strong for me.”

“Guess you better take him back, then.” Cody offered them a tight-lipped smile, probably because Rex could see he was trying not to laugh. “It was good seein’ you, Rex. _Ret'urcye mhi_.”

Skywalker’s brow furrowed. Rex chuckled, even though the action hurt his throat.

“ _Vor’e_ , Cody.”

_Damn you, too._

###### //

“Are you _sure_ it’s alright for me to sleep here?”

Skywalker waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, it’s fine, she won’t mind. I sleep on the couch all the time.”

Somehow, that didn’t invoke a bit of confidence in Rex. He eyed the couch warily, gaze darting between it and Skywalker’s encouraging nods.

_Why do you need to sleep on her couch so often, anyway?_

Rex would have been perfectly fine sleeping in his room at the temple again, but Skywalker had done everything save ordering him to come back with him to Senator Amidala’s rooms. Of all the kriffing places he could have picked, it had to be those. It was late, so the entire place was dark when Skywalker had unceremoniously dropped onto the balcony, a reluctant Rex following the suit behind him.

“Can’t we go through the door?” he had whispered, hyper-aware of every single thing as they both crept across the dim living area, lit only by the lights of distant buildings, hovering billboards, and the four faded moons.

Skywalker hadn’t answered him. Rex sighed.

It wasn’t a bad couch. It was large both long-wise and in width, better than what Rex slept on most of the time. Softer, more plush. Skywalker stood right next to him, at a close, body-touching proximity that forced Rex to take a seat unless he wanted to bump into him. The Jedi grinned triumphantly when he gave in, plopping down next to him.

“There,” Skywalker exhaled. “Better, right?”

“… _sure_.”

“You should get some sleep. We don’t want you getting sick when we take the ship to Naboo tomorrow.”

_If I sleep, I’ll get the nightmares again. Worse than the usual ones._

Rex stared down at his lap, weighing his options. Skywalker noticed his silence, nudging their shoulders together.

“C’mon, Rex. I know you’re tired. Jedi, remember?”

Abruptly, Rex felt both of the other’s hands on his shoulders, pushing him down till his back hit the couch, and his head was against the arm-rest. The guy had a strong grip, unrelenting even as Rex’s back arched in an attempt to sit back up. It only made Skywalker laugh, pinning him down as he leaned over him. That effectively got Rex to stop squirming.

“No point in struggling,” Skywalker murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Rex inhaled shakily.

_I'm not bred for this._

“Yeah,” was all he managed to respond with, and he was simply thankful his voice hadn’t cracked.

The light from outside was doing amazing things to Skywalker’s eyes. The blue color seemed to glimmer like two precious gems, or the colorful lights from frozen planets that would dance across the sky. There weren’t a lot of pretty things to see during war, so that had been a special moment.

The Jedi’s eyes were exactly like that.

They were like their own individual _lifeforms_ , changing and shining.

Neither of them spoke a word. It took all of Rex’s will-power not to have his breath taken away by the sight of him.

_I’m nothin’ compared to him. He’s beautiful._

It hurt, but Rex believed it.

The Jedi’s constantly growing hair had drifted in front of one of his eyes. Rex instinctively lifted a hand, reaching up to tuck that strand behind his ear. His calloused fingers combed through the hairs as he pushed it back, his lips parting with muted wonder. It was so damn soft. Skywalker tilted his head towards Rex’s hand, murmuring quietly.

_Breathtaking. Then there’s me._

Their faces were close again. If Rex had tilted his head in any way, their noses would have brushed together. He couldn’t remember when Skywalker had leaned down.

His own heart seemed so kriffing loud. Could Skywalker hear it? The way he caused it to speed up? Was it a normal thing?

Something was against his cheek. It was the Jedi’s hand. Rex felt all the breath inside him leave at once. His lips parted a little more, noiselessly. Skywalker’s eyes flickered down to them. The tips of their noses touched. Close, _closer_ than anything Rex had ever experienced.

Suddenly, the hand moved from his cheek, and passed over his eyes. He felt a sudden pressure, as if all the sleep he hadn’t gotten over the last couple of days was crashing down on him. Natural, but unnatural. Forced. _The Force_.

_He’s usin’ the Force on me?_

The last thing Rex heard, mumbled so close to his own lips that he could feel the air move, was a soft, distant, “Sleep tight, Rex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! I love hearing what you thought about my story, my characterizations, or my writing.
> 
>  **Su cuy'gar:** so, you're still alive.  
>  **Ret'urcye mhi:** maybe we'll meet again.  
>  **Vor'e:** thanks.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is in the shadows till light is shone down upon it. There is something looming behind everyone. Is it love? Fear? Jealousy? Every decision can come back to haunt the one who makes it. Every affectionate advance creates a permanent burn inside, on one's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _It's hanging on your tongue, and it's boiling in my blood._   
> 

Something was moving against his cheek.

It rose up and down at a rhythm that nearly matched his breathing. In and out, up and down, lifting him slightly each time.

Rex slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the growing light.

He was met with the sight of unfamiliar surroundings. Nothing new at this point, and not cause for immediate concern. There was a low table with plant-life arranged in the center, and a couch on the other side, mirroring the one he knew he was laying on. It didn’t, however, help explain the motion he was currently experiencing.

Couches aren’t known to move.

Slowly, he dropped his gaze. He could see two arms dangling off the side of the couch. One was his own. The other? It wore a dark, fitted glove.

Skywalker.

His head was resting on top of Skywalker’s chest, and he was feeling him breathe.

Rex went still, mind racing. His other arm was stretched out, limp against the man’s shoulder. Their legs were tangled together, a mess of ankles and half-bent knees. What should he do? What was he _supposed_ to do? Did he alert him to the situation?

_How’d we get like this, anyway?_

The night before wasn’t any mystery. That, Rex remember easily. 79’s, Cody, the drink, Fives’ story, vomiting in the bathroom – Skywalker taking him back to Senator Amidala’s place after, with some excuse about needing to make sure Rex would be okay. Rex trusted him, of course, but the position they were in now seemed a little more than “making sure”.

_He used some Force trick on me to get me to sleep. Wasn’t horrible, I guess. I don’t remember any nightmares, not even the usual ones. I usually don't sleep this deeply._

Rex released the tension in his muscles, closing his eyes again, a crooked smile on his face.

Up, and down.

There was a quiet groan. Rex could feel him stirring. Against his better judgement, he kept his eyes shut tight, feigning what he hoped would still seem like sleep. The Jedi’s chest lifted as he stretched, the groan morphing into a subtle grunt when he dropped back down. Rex remained unmoving. Something slowly trailed down the nape of his neck, pushing down the high-collar of the uniform and drifting over the short, bleached hairs he had there. Skywalker’s fingers, he guessed. Warm, gentle. They followed an invisible line to his jaw, and Rex could feel one finger press in slightly as they went along the shape of the bone. The fingers stopped at his chin. Then, Rex felt one skim over his bottom lip. It was becoming a sincere struggle now to keep his breathing steady and _unbothered_ as the tip of that finger pulled down on the flesh, causing his lips to part.

_I can’t take it. I wasn’t made for this. Kriff!_

Rex inhaled deeply, moving his shoulders. The fingers were gone in an instant. He opened his eyes cautiously.

There was, what Rex felt to be, an awkward silence.

_Say somethin’._

“ … morning,” he finally mumbled. It _was_ something.

Skywalker chuckled warmly, and Rex could feel it in his chest against his cheek.

“Looks like I somehow ended up your pillow,” the man teased lightly.

Rex quickly lifted his head, flinching as his vision blurred and his head throbbed a little from moving too fast. Next time, _he_ would be picking out the drinks, that much was certain. When his focus finally righted itself, he could see Skywalker was grinning up at him, his hands folded behind his head.

“Morning, sunshine,” the Jedi greeted cheekily. Rex frowned purposefully down at him, a silent reprimand for the nickname that the other completely ignored. He went on to add, “You’re even the right color.”

Rex resisted the unprofessional urge to kick him.

_To be fair, there’s nothin’ “professional” about this at all. Seems like we’re both pretending it’s not what it is._

He wasn’t sure whether he should feel relieved, or broken.

As Skywalker sat up, Rex glanced over the back of the couch at the open balcony. He could see the barest hints of the sun rising amid the hustle and bustle of Coruscant. Some of the night-lights were still on – even the four moons, faded as they were, remained phantoms in the sky.

“ _Oh_! Why, Master Anakin, how good it is to see you.”

Rex knew that voice. Rolling his eyes with an internal sigh, he turned back around to face the approaching C-3PO. That gold-plated monstrosity was the dread of the troops, and Commander Wolffe’s personal droid nightmare. Rex had learned, through dedicated discipline, to tolerate him and his constant talking. He probably meant well, he would tell himself. It was a weak comfort.

“I see you have with you … Captain Rex,” the droid continued hesitantly. If C-3PO had a face, Rex knew he would be making one.

_I’m not happy to see you either, goldie._

Skywalker reached up, pulling on each of his darkly-clad arm as he stretched. Rex heard the quiet pop of his shoulders before the Jedi sighed, rolling his neck. “Hey, ‘3PO, mind grabbing us something to eat?”

C-3PO apparently wasn’t pleased with the request. “I am programmed to be a protocol and etiquette droid, not some _butler_ , Master Anakin.”

“Can’t you just _do_ what I ask?” Skywalker muttered, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back against the couch. Rex settled down next to him.

The droid raised his arms with an indignant, “Very well, very well.” Rex could hear him talking to himself as he waddled off, none too quietly. “The nerve! Asking me to perform the function of a servant droid …”

Skywalker shushed him sharply, shaking his head. “Should have just gotten it myself.”

“Probably should have,” Rex agreed under his breath. Skywalker heard him, and dug his elbow into his side. Rex shot him a dismayed look, but the mirth in the other’s eyes left him exhaling in defeat. The Jedi always won.

_I don’t mind, really._

He also didn’t mind the arm Skywalker seemed to have unconsciously rested on the back of the couch behind him.

“How’d you sleep, Rex?"

“Good, thanks to you. Best sleep I've gotten in awhile.”

This made the other smile brightly, and he let out a satisfied hum. Rex could have easily become addicted to that face – and to the prospect of never having those nightmares. He knew, however, without him there, they would soon be back to haunt him.

_You’re afraid, clone._

“I have some fruit for the both of you. I wasn't sure _what_ to select since you did not specify, so I gathered several different options.”

C-3PO’s voice. He was waddling back with a tray-full of an assortment of fruit balanced on his arms. Rex didn’t trust that for a second, and it seemed Skywalker had the same misgivings. The Jedi quickly stood, taking the tray from the droid’s arms and balancing the dangerously high-stacked fruit on it as he slowly sat back down.

“Thanks, ‘3PO,” he murmured distractedly, biting his lower lip with the concentration it took to lean forward and set it down carefully on the decorative table in front of the couch without disturbing the pile.

“Is there anything _else_ I can do for you?”

“No, you can go somewhere else.”

The droid sighed, but turned and wandered out of sight. Rex wanted to twist his head off.

Suddenly, something bright red was in front of his eyes, waving back and forth.

“It’s a ‘pladee’,” Skywalker clarified before he could ask. “A red fruit from Naboo. Go ahead, try it.”

Rex moved to take it from the other’s hand, but Skywalker had it gripped firmly, not letting go. “Just bite,” he insisted, nudging the fruit against Rex’s lips.

He eyed Skywalker dubiously for a moment. The Jedi Master seemed one-hundred percent serious – smiling imploringly, even, a curious glint in his eyes. Just what was he interested in seeing?

It seemed like another defeat. An unusual one, maybe, but Rex knew how stubborn his General could be. The guy wasn’t going to let it go until he took a bite with him holding the fruit. Brows furrowing, he gripped Skywalker’s wrist with one hand, just to keep the fruit steady as he bought it to his opening mouth. His teeth sunk into it, the juicy flavor all but overwhelming his tongue. Rex’s swallowed loudly. It was cool against his throat.

“How is it?”

Rex sat back, wiping off the juice from his lips with the back of his hand before it could dribble down his chin.

“Pretty good,” he admitted, glancing at Skywalker. The other seemed captivated by him, and Rex nearly lost his own concentration. “Better ... than rations.”

This answer seemed to please him, or satisfy whatever he was expecting. Grinning, Skywalker sat back as well, biting into the same place on the fruit where Rex had.

Even though he didn’t necessarily need to, Rex swallowed again.

###### //

“Be a good Padawan for Obi-Wan while I’m gone, snips,” Skywalker warned, though he didn’t seem serious. He was smirking a little too much for that.

Tano rolled her eyes, but she chuckled. “You got it, Master. Padmé, Rex, I’m expecting _you_ guys to make sure my Master behaves.”

Senator Amidala, who stood on the other side of Skywalker, smiled gently. “Of course, Ahsoka.”

Rex nodded with a reserved, “Sir.”

The Togrutan had come to see them off before they boarded the Senator’s silver Naboo star skiff. She had also brought with her Rex’s Naboo helmet and gloves, two things he was not happy to see. He held the helmet under one arm, with the gloves tucked inside.

That morning had gotten off to a difficult start, despite its early moments that made his heart pound. While a safe distance had been put between him and his General before the Senator had awakened, with Skywalker eating on the couch and Rex standing quietly out on the balcony, her startled, “Captain Rex? You’re … already here,” when he had come back inside was enough for him to quickly bow his head, mutter an apology, and exit through the nearest door before embarrassment threatened to color his face.

_Kriff, I felt like a trespasser._

During the hour or two when neither Skywalker nor Amidala made an appearance, Rex had introduced himself to the Senator’s guard. On Coruscant, it was comprised of three humans. There was Captain Gregar Typho, a powerful looking man whose uniform was a lot less gaudy than Rex’s. The other two guards he was in charge of were siblings, a brother and a sister. Neither of them said their names. All three of them gave Rex a less than friendly look. Rex was pretty sure he knew why.

_Just a clone._

There was an assortment of servants as well, but Rex hadn't caught sight of them till they had walked out onto the platform.

“Rex, can I ask you something?”

Tano was speaking to him. Rex blinked, eyes lowering to her grave gaze. Everyone else was busy boarding the starship.

“What is it?” he asked.

She bit her lip, then leaned up on her toes to speak quietly to him. “Master Skywalker – he didn’t happen to say he … _sensed_ anything different around you, did he?”

_Just how bad my guilt is._

Rex shook his head, frowning. “No, he didn’t say anything. … Why?”

“Just be careful, okay? I’ll contact you in a few days.”

_That doesn’t seem to bode well._

“Commander Tano?”

“Rex! Let’s go!” Skywalker’s voice, shouted above roar of the engines.

“Go on. Sky-guy’s already lost without you,” she teased. “May the Force be with you.”

###### //

“Your duties will be relatively simple, but no less important. During your service this month, Senator Amidala has several engagements she will be attending with her majesty, the Queen of Naboo. You will be a part of the guards, led by myself, that will accompany her to every single occasion.”

Rex, standing at attention with his arms folded rigidly behind his back, gave a short nod. The chin-strap of the helmet rubbed uncomfortably against his skin. He was used to the feeling. Captain Typho continued.

“Wherever she goes, we go. There are rotations in personnel, but it isn’t frequent. Do you understand, clone trooper?”

_Clone._

“Sir, yes sir.”

Typho didn’t smile, or verbally acknowledge Rex’s response. Instead, he turned to Amidala, who stood smiling uneasily behind him. Rex couldn't tell if it was because she was uncomfortable with him, or Typho's actions.

“Is there anything you wish to add, my lady?”

“No, Captain Typho,” she responded graciously. Rex could see her smile waning. “I think you covered it. Thank you.”

The Captain of the guard nodded. A door slid open, and the starship’s navigator popped his head in.

“Captain, we’re coming out of hyperspace. I need you to transmit the security message to Naboo.”

With that, they were both gone. The door _swished_ shut.

Silence, as always.

It wasn’t as if they were complete strangers to each-other. Rex had been with Skywalker plenty of times when she needed help, or a rescue. The difference was, as soon as those ordeals had been over, he would leave, and neither of them would take the time for conversation. The closest had been during the virus incident.

They belonged to two different worlds. She was Senator Amidala, former Queen, known for her wiles and her supposed sweet heart. The one Skywalker was always following after. He was CT-7567, clone, a soldier with the face of a million others. Part of a bigger picture, insignificant to the galaxy. He was the one always following after Skywalker.

If she died, it would matter. If he died, there was someone to replace him. That seemed the clearest way to look at it.

Amidala cleared her throat. “You … don’t have to continue to stand like that, you know.”

It was as close to an “at ease” as it seemed he was going to get, and Rex relaxed his shoulders, dropping his arms to his sides. There was a round table placed in front of a long, bench-like seat that was cut into the wall of ship. She moved to sit down. Rex remained standing.

_Do I say something?_

He didn’t have to – she was talking again. “You and Master Skywalker are, _um_ – pretty close.”

A stated observation. Did that need an answer? He spoke up anyway. “Yes, sir. I’ve served with him since the beginning of the war.”

She made a face. “Oh, please don’t call me ‘sir’. I’ve noticed you call Ahsoka ‘sir’, too. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why the clones do that.” The Senator laughed a little.

Maybe it was meant as casual conversation, or even an attempt to seem interested in him. He wasn't sure how to take it. Instead, Rex stiffly quoted what he had been taught. “ _Ah_ … Republic army regulations specify that ‘sir’ should be used for any personnel of a higher rank … _regardless_ of species or gender.”

“Oh,” she murmured, blinking. “That’s … interesting. I didn’t know that. Still – I think I would prefer it if you just called me ‘Senator’, if you need to, alright?”

Rex wasn’t sure how to respond, so he merely nodded. The whole conversation was leaving a feeling of bitterness for the weeks to come. His only comfort was the fact that Skywalker would be there.

There was another pensive silence.

“You and Anakin are good friends, then?” She sounded somewhat concerned, though Rex wasn’t sure why. He did, however, make note of her use of his General’s first name. He couldn’t say he liked it, not at all.

Did friends cover it anymore? Had it covered it in the first place? All the new, heart-thudding moments from the past couple of days crowded into Rex’s head. First and foremost was from that morning, and the feeling of Skywalker breathing beneath him as he slept.

Granted, Rex knew he lacked experience, but he was pretty sure “friends” didn’t do that.

Friends don’t touch their friends’ lips.

_I really need to jerk off._

“Rex?” Amidala was asking anxiously, her brows drawn upward and her small lips pressing together.

Rex cleared his throat. “ _Er_ – yes. Friends … Senator.”

More throbbing silence.

“I wanted to thank you,” Rex began slowly, “for helpin’ Dogma and me. I’m sure you had other things you needed to do.”

_I know she said she did. Still, guess I should thank her._

“It was no problem,” she answered mildly, tilting her head. The smile on her face made it hard for Rex to dislike her.

_I can see why Skywalker likes her. He must. She’s soft. No scars. Unique. What do I have? The best I can do is take down droids. I can’t even kiss the guy._

Her brown eyes were confidently calm now – yet, Rex could see a sliver of some other emotion there, something that remained fixated on him. It wasn’t as kind.

“ _There_ you guys are,” Rex heard Skywalker say. His voice sounded oddly tense despite its abrupt cheeriness when he greeted them, the door he had entered from sliding shut behind him. He took a seat beside Amidala at the round table. Her face had lit up at his entrance. Rex looked away.

“You should take a seat, Rex,” the Jedi urged, patting the spot beside him. Rex could see the corners of Amidala’s eyes tighten.

“I’m … fine, sir.” He took a small step back, as if being any closer to them would physically hurt him. “I’ll go check up on our progress as we come out of hyperspace.”

Before the man could protest, Rex took several large strides out the door, to the front of the starship. He was immediately presented with a view of the planet of Naboo from its front window. It seemed they had arrived fairly quickly. The muted colors of the planet grew closer and closer as they approached it, a stark contrast to the dark space surrounding it. It was a relief – the ship was definitely too kriffing small for all of them. Namely three of them.

As Rex approached the window, standing behind the seats of the pilot and the navigator, he could see his reflection. His expression seemed downcast, riddled with discomfort. The helmet looked damn ridiculous on him, and it made him frown crossly. If Fives could see him in it, he would be laughing at him.

Something moved behind him in the reflection.

Rex narrowed his eyes.

It was a blurry, faded white mass. Suddenly, there was a mouth – a wide, toothy smirk, one that Rex knew immediately and froze every ounce of blood in his body.

Something breathed against his neck.

_CT-7567._

He turned around sharply, hands becoming fists as he jerked them up in front of his chest.

Nothing. Nothing was there.

“Something wrong?” Captain Typho asked.

Rex could feel his hands _trembling_. Slowly, he lowered them.

“Nothin’ wrong,” he forced out, jaw clenched. He glanced over his shoulder at his reflection again. The only thing that was different was that his color had paled. “Just thought I saw something in the dark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> A bit of a transition chapter as they're finally off to Naboo, plus a very uncomfortable Amidala and Rex moment. She's trying to be nice, he's trying to be nice. Result? Intense discomfort. Anakin, meanwhile, is struggling.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touch can be a form of intimate connection, as if one's spark can traverse through it to another being. It can speak volumes when words can't. The response is just as important. Denial turns touch into something that causes pain. Acceptance? A willingness, a wanting. Something that is craved desperately from the other person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _Do you see what we've done?_   
> 

Something was different.

It wasn’t the grand architecture, the green vines that scaled every structure, or even the thick, ever-constant smell of flowers.

Something was off between Skywalker and Amidala.

Landing had been the simplest part of the whole thing. Captain Typho gave Rex his own blaster pistol and a nod, his one visible eye stern. The flowery smell assaulted Rex the moment he followed the Naboo Captain out and set foot on the starship’s extending ramp, causing him to wrinkle his nose and sniff deeply. It was too much for him to find pleasant. Bearable, maybe, but not pleasant. It made his head ache slightly.

Still, Rex had to admit it was a pretty place, right down to the perfectly paved streets.

He had stood with the rest of the guard, waiting for the Senator to descend after her servants had hurried down. The first hint of trouble was the snippet of conversation Rex caught as Amidala appeared.

“I don’t want to discuss it anymore, Anakin,” she was saying curtly off to the side. Skywalker appeared a moment later, his brow dark with blatant frustration and a scowl on his mouth. He didn’t said anything, lagging behind the rest of them.

Rex had to resist the instinct to lag behind with him, reminding himself that he was on the planet as part of the guard, not his General’s Captain.

It seemed walking was a big part of navigating Naboo. It was either walking the unbelievably clean streets, or riding a boat out. The Senator opted for the walking option. The home she stayed at, which she referred to as “Varykino”, wasn’t far from where they had landed. They just had to pass through a bit of the city, then the forest, which led to the shore it was built on.

_Seems unnecessary in my opinion._

Captain Typho walked with the two guards in front of Amidala, and the servants walked behind her, a few chatting with the Senator amiably. Rex alone brought up the rear, with Skywalker some distance behind him, stepping angrily. Rex could hear his boots hit the ground every time.

_Wonder what happened._

Rex glanced over his shoulder, grimacing when the long back of his helmet knocked clumsily against his shoulder. He damned the thing under his breath before settling his gaze on Skywalker. The Jedi’s attention was on the other side of the street, watching the Naboo pass by. Rex followed his line of sight, eyes drifting over the faces of the different people. A few stopped when they spotted him – whispering, motioning at him.

All it took was a quietly spoken, “Look, a clone!” before Rex realized why.

He quickly turned his face forward, lips pursing. It felt like more and more eyes were on him the longer they walked. The clothes he wore, which had been fine minutes before, felt itchy and strange under the stares. The chin-strap of the helmet scraped beneath his chin, and he pulled on it with one hand, fingers fumbling to loosen it. He couldn’t seem to find the damn fold where it was kept tight, and soon, both of his hands were engaged in the task, tugging against it with a growing impatience and a glower on his lips.

“ _Kriff_ ,” he muttered helplessly.

“Here, let me get that for you.”

Skywalker stepped suddenly in front of him, causing Rex to stop mid-stride.

“It’s fine, sir, we’ll fall behind – ”

“So what? We’ll catch up. Tilt your head back for me.”

At the unintentional command, Rex complied, lifting his chin. Skywalker’s fingers were instantly on the strap. Rex heard a snap, the material loosening and giving him room to flex his jaw. It was a relief, and he sighed gratefully, staring up at the faded blue sky.

_Not as great as Skywalker’s eyes._

Rex heard the grin in the other’s voice when he asked, “How’s that?”

“Better, sir. I still feel like I have a starship on my head, but at least the strap’s not pinchin’ me.”

Skywalker chuckled. There was another snap. “Okay, there. You can move your head now.”

He brought his chin back down, opening his mouth and clenching his jaw experimentally. The chin-strap was a better length than it was before. The tips of the Jedi’s fingers lingered on his throat before they dropped. They didn’t drop before a shiver had shot down Rex’s back, however.

He ignored the continued stares of those passing by with renewed discipline. He was a solider, a Captain – he was used to all eyes on him. A few unfamiliar gazes and some choice words wouldn’t faze him, not in front of his General. While he did feel like some circus creature, he kept his spine straight.

Skywalker was smiling jauntily at him. “Want to take a detour?”

_I want to kiss him when he smiles like that._

Rex tilted his head a bit. “Detour, sir?”

“Yeah, through the forest. We’ll cut everyone off before they reach the mansion.”

He raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect, sir, this _isn’t_ a vacation. I’m supposed to be guardin’ Senator Amidala.”

The other rolled his eyes, his upper lip curling. There was a new spitefulness to his tone. “Forget that. I’ll explain everything to Senator Amidala later. We’ll just say we … wanted to get _familiar_ with the land.”

“ _General_ – ”

Protesting seemed pointless. Before he could finish his sentence, Skywalker grabbed his hand, a coquettish grin on his face as he twined their fingers together, pulling him suddenly into an alleyway. He didn’t stop there. Rex had to focus entirely on keeping up with his quick pace as they all but ran behind buildings and cut through small, nearly empty streets. The sounds of the city became more and more distant till it was nothing but a murmur in the background. All that was left was the noise of them panting. Rex gripped Skywalker’s hand tightly. Every now and then, the other would glance at him over his shoulder, blue eyes alight with excitement.

It wasn’t long before they were among tall, thick trees. Water seemed to constantly drip from their leaves, even though there wasn’t any rainfall. Rex could feel it drip on his face whenever he looked up, spotting patches of blue between dark green.

Once they had been jogging through the forest for several minutes, Skywalker finally slowed. Rex was glad he was _used_ to a pace like that, or he might have been more out of breath. He took in big, lung-filling inhales as the Jedi laughed breathlessly.

The air was warmer in the forest. Wetter, too.

The other’s fingers still held firmly between each of his own.

“See the way this path curves around the trees up there?” Skywalker panted suddenly, motioning down at a gathering of trees with his free hand.

“Yeah – why?”

“I used to do a lot of racing when I was younger, you know,” the Jedi mused, chuckling. It didn’t answer Rex’s question, but he listened anyway as he caught his breath. “I didn’t race on foot, really. The sand’s not too great for that. I think the dirt will work out better.”

“Better for _what_?”

“This path,” Skywalker continued, and Rex exhaled loudly. “ – leads to where we can cut off Senator Amidala, if we hurry.”

Rex slowly raised an eyebrow. Skywalker grinned dangerously at him.

The only warning he got was a hurriedly shouted, “On your mark, get set, _go_!” before the Jedi let go of his hand, sprinting off down the path.

“ _General Skywalker_!”

It was no use. Grinding his teeth, Rex bounded after him, digging the heels of his boots into the loose dirt with each step. Skywalker had the advantage of a farther start, but there was no way in hell Rex was going to let the guy win after that dirty trick.

It was sort of serene, running through that forest. It was almost completely silent, save for the sounds of their boots hitting the ground, and their gasps for breath. Everything seemed to melt away, becoming a blur of green and brown. Things came back into focus when, suddenly, Rex realized he had just passed Skywalker. He was actually _ahead_ of him. The pants he heard behind him warned that it wasn’t much of a lead, but Rex couldn’t help the winded laugh that left him, even as the muscles in his legs burned.

“ _Poodoo_!” came Skywalker’s sharp curse, but Rex only continued to laugh, which became a wheezed cough as his lungs protested.

_I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this._

Rex felt an abrupt weight on his back. It threw off his balance, and he tumbled to the ground, rolling through the dead leaves and dirt. When he finally stopped on his back, Skywalker was leaning over him, laughing till Rex swore he saw tears in his eyes.

“You _tackled_ me,” Rex muttered in disbelief, coughing.

“I did. Couldn’t let you win, could I?”

“Pretty sure the Jedi Code’s got to say somethin’ about cheating.”

“Not a word,” Skywalker snickered. “Obi-Wan complains about it sometimes, it’s _kind of_ funny.”

“You’re heavy for a Jedi, y’know,” Rex retorted, pushing against Skywalker’s chest with his hands.

The Jedi only shrugged, smirking. Rex elbowed one of his arms, and he grunted indignantly. 

“Alright, stop the attack, I’m moving,” he relented, shifting.

Rex let out a startled moan.

He _moaned_ because one of Skywalker’s knees, placed haphazardly between his sprawled legs, had nudged right into his crotch once the other had made a move to try and stand. Rex was used to having something there to protect him – namely his armor, and a bit of padding. In the Naboo uniform, there was nothing.

Skywalker froze. Rex could feel his own heart began to race.

_Kriff._

Rex refused to look up at him. He turned his head to the side, instead staring hard at the base of a tree.

Panic overwhelmed him, keeping his limbs still. Why the hell did he have to moan? Where had that noise come from? Rex was used to grunting when he jerked off, not moaning. He wanted desperately to crawl away and find the path again so he could re-join Senator Amidala’s group, and do the duty he was supposed to be doing. His stomach was twisting into worried knots.

Clones don’t get stressed. Clones don’t panic.

_Yeah, right._

There was a very light nudge against his crotch again. Testing, it almost seemed.

Rex bit down on his lower lip, feeling his face warm. He couldn’t bring himself to look at him yet.

He felt Skywalker’s knee began to rub in slow circles.

_What the hell is he doing?_

Heat was rushing to two places now – his face, and his dick. It pooled into the pit of his stomach, a shudder shaking his shoulders. The knee didn’t falter. Rex dug his gloved fingers into the dirt. His breathing seemed too loud now, but he couldn’t stop panting.

The knee stopped circling, instead pressing down against the head of his length through his trousers. Rex exhaled shakily as his hips jerked upwards. It was a reaction he wanted to control, but couldn’t.

_Kriff, that feels good._

A moment later, the knee was replaced with a warm hand that cupped him slightly. Rex made a choked sound in the back of his throat, squeezing his eyes shut.

“ – don’t know where they went, but I’m sure they’ll show up.”

Voices, just on the other side of a few trees. Rex’s eyes snapped open.

_It’s Senator Amidala and the servants._

The hand was gone from his crotch. Skywalker yanked him up to a wobbly stand, brushing the dirt and leaves off of him. Rex rushed to do the same, picking them out from the other’s dark robes. He had skillfully managed to avoid looking at his General’s face for most of it.

“... Rex?”

Skywalker’s quiet, pleading voice. Rex slowly looked up, apprehensive.

The Jedi’s face was _redder_ than he expected, pupils blown and expression unsure. Rex swallowed, stuttering wordlessly as he frantically wracked his brain for some sentence to coherently string together, even though the only word coming up was “kriff” over and over.

“Look, we’ll talk later, alright? C’mon,” Skywalker finally hissed, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him through a couple of trees.

Rex could only manage a bewildered, half-aroused nod.

The Naboo uniform had one redeeming quality – the vest that went over the shirt effectively covered his crotch, and hid his slight hard-on.

Amidala and the rest had already passed them, and were a little ways ahead up the main road. Quickening his steps, the Jedi guided him along till they were both right behind the group of servants. Only then did he release his wrist. Rex felt colder at the loss of that last bit of contact.

Amidala must have heard them approach, because she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed questioningly.

_She’s suspicious. Not good._

“Master Skywalker,” she greeted stiffly. “I was wondering where you had wandered off to.”

Skywalker merely smiled, but Rex could see the strain behind it and hear the sarcasm in his voice. “ _My apologies_ , milady. I was just showing Captain Rex a … shortcut.”

She raised an eyebrow. “A shortcut?”

The Jedi nodded easily. She sighed, and Rex wasn’t sure she entirely believed him.

“Next time, if you are planning to take one of my guards, tell me,” was her somewhat icy reprimand. 

Rex heard one of the servants mutter, “I thought clones were supposed to do _everything_ they were told, not run off!”

Blindly loyal, to the last.

Rex lowered his eyes, hands curling into fists.

“We’re here,” Captain Typho cut in.

Rex lifted his head, his eyes widening a fraction. The mansion was much bigger than he had expected. There were two, dome-shaped structures built into each other, clinging to a small cliff at the edge of the water. It mimicked a lot of what he had seen through the city – blue-ish tones, climbing greenery, the picture of what Rex thought real elegance might look like. All that was behind it were forests and forests of trees, climbing up a small mountain.

“I think we’re all ready for some dinner,” Amidala announced, a tight-lipped smile on her face. “Teckla, would you mind taking a few handmaidens on ahead and getting one or two of the droids to help you prepare some food? We’ll all eat together in the dining room.” One of the female servants, whom Rex guessed to be Teckla, nodded her head, and turned to walk down a different path that branched off from the main road with a few of the other servants. The Senator glanced back at Rex, her brown eyes meeting his. “We eat together on the first night,” she explained, her gaze unwavering.

Rex cleared his throat, and nodded.

_Stop looking at me._

Next to him, Rex felt Skywalker’s hand brush against his. Cautiously, almost, the Jedi flexed his fingers, touching the tips of them to the back of Rex’s gloved hand, and trailing upwards discreetly. It sent a renewed surge of warmth all the way down to his toes. A crooked smile tugged on his lips.

_I’m stuck between fire and ice here._

“Clone trooper.” Captain Typho’s voice. Rex straightened, and Skywalker took a small step to the side. “I’ll show you where your quarters are. Come with me.”

Rex glanced at the Jedi from the corner of his eye. Skywalker shrugged, grinning faintly. Pursing his lips, Rex quickened his pace till he was following behind Typho, willing his small erection to deflate with every ounce of his control as they entered Varykino.

The inside was just as luxurious as the outside, all smooth floors and hanging paintings. It was a bit of a blur. Typho never once slowed, expertly making his way through the hallways.

“None of my lady’s handmaidens or day guards usually stay the night,” he was saying as he walked. “We all have our own places to get back to, and we don't come here every day. There are a few designated night guards who take the late shift. The morning meal is at dawn in the kitchen. Senator Amidala prefers to get an early start on things.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Here is your room. It’s one of the smaller guest rooms.”

_They call this “small”?_

While it wasn’t the largest of any they had passed, it was still bigger than any place Rex had ever stayed in. Taking a cautious step inside, he glanced around.

There were no windows in the room, and the decorations were bare save for a few abstract pictures. A large bed with muted lavender sheets was centered in it with the headboard against a wall. It was a big enough space that Rex could walk around comfortably. His pack with his blacks and his armor sat on top of a dresser. He decided not to question how it managed to get there before he did.

“Dinner will be in a few minutes,” Typho reminded him. “I suggest you get situated and make your way down soon. The dining room’s near the entrance.”

The Naboo Captain nodded curtly at him, then disappeared from the doorway.

Rex sunk down on the edge of the bed with a quiet exhale, tilting his head back as he managed to undo the chin-strap to his helmet and let it drop to the mattress, slipping off his gloves along with it. One of his hands drifted to his crotch, letting his hand press down a little and palm himself. His skin tingled, a shudder from his hips making the bed bounce.

_How am I supposed to survive dinner like this?_

###### //

It turned out to be easier than he had initially thought. The moment he stepped foot in the dining room, the tense atmosphere effectively drained the warmth from his crotch.

_I’d take the mess hall with my brothers over this any day._

In the middle, and beneath an ornate chandelier, was a long, rectangular table. Servants and guards alike were seated and chatting quietly to themselves. C-3PO shuffled past him with a dignified, “Pardon me!” while several of the butler droids followed after him. At one end of the table sat Amidala, who wasn’t talking to anyone. Skywalker sat at the other end, also silent and poking at his food with one of the utensils.

_I don’t think I want to be here._

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an open seat near the Jedi. The only empty seat was right in the middle, between two groups of handmaidens. Carefully, as if the chair might explode beneath him, Rex sat down. The chatter around him immediately ceased, though the rest of the table still talked among each-other.

Then, one of the handmaidens tentatively asked, “You’re the clone … aren’t you?”

“ _Uh_ – yes.”

Their eyes collectively widened, staring curiously at him. Gazes from across him and beside him were fixated on him for a long, painful moment. Rex’s shoulders tensed.

“It must be so weird to be a clone!” one of the women exclaimed suddenly. The rest of them nodded. “Being around yourself all the time seems like it would be tiresome.”

Rex didn’t have a chance to answer, as a woman who sat across from him immediately jumped into the conversation. “Oh, _please_ , Dryella, he’s not that interesting. You see a lot of clones on Coruscant. Once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. They really do look the same!”

There was a bit of laughter at this. Rex focused instead on the food as his stomach grumbled. However, just as he was about to put a piece of it in his mouth, the handmaiden – Dryella – spoke up again.

“Are all the clones named ‘Rex’, then?”

“Er, _no_ ,” he answered.

“Don’t be silly, Dryella. I heard they all give themselves little nicknames!”

“Oh, that’s sweet of them,” Dryella crooned. “I don’t know how they still manage to tell each-other apart, though.”

He made a second attempt to eat the piece on his fork, but another one of the handmaidens was speaking expectantly to him.

“Well? How do you tell each-other apart?”

All eyes were on him again.

“ _Ah_ … we just know, I guess. Some of us make modifications to look different.”

“Like your hair!” one chirped. “I haven’t seen a lot of clones, but I’ve certainly never seen a blond one before!”

“It definitely looks strange!” another laughed. “I was surprised when he came into the dining room with it.”

“Do you think you could ever date a clone?” Dryella asked them. Scoffs were traded all around. Rex averted his eyes.

“Certainly not,” the one across from him said, wrinkling her nose. “I wouldn’t want a partner who could be the same as a million others’ partners. I’d prefer a noble over a solider.”

The conversation carried on without him. Rex finally forced the bite into his mouth, chewing woodenly. He didn’t feel as hungry anymore.

_Never thought I’d wish I was back in a cell with Dogma. Still, it's fine. Not my purpose to have anyone._

A chair skid sharply across the floor. The chattering stopped in an instant, all eyes raised. Amidala had stood, her expression carefully composed.

“I’m going to be retiring for the night. Thank you all for a lovely dinner.”

_That’s rather abrupt._

Murmuring broke out across the rest of the table. Rex glanced at Skywalker. He had stood too, and as soon as Amidala had walked out, he began to follow after. On his way, however, he stopped by Rex’s seat and leaned down.

“I’ll come by your room later, okay?” he mumbled against his ear.

Rex swallowed the bite he had taken, and gave a small nod.

_Maybe I am allowed to have someone._

“ – think Master Skywalker and Mistress Amidala are fighting,” he caught one of the handmaidens whispering to another. “No, I don’t know what it’s about! They’ve always seemed awfully close, though.”

“Don’t you think they could be secret lovers?” the other woman whispered back.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, even with the Jedi Code.” The other shrugged. “They met when he was a little boy.”

_Ah, kriff. Wasn't that hungry anyway._

Rex stood, even as his stomach rumbled in protest.

His leaving, thankfully, went unnoticed as he exited the dining room, making his way back through the winding halls to his own quarters. It was dark save for the lamp by the bed that had automatically turned on, giving the room a glowing, golden light.

_He’ll come, and we can sort this thing out._

Rex began to pace. Back and forth, back and forth.

Twenty minutes passed. Back and forth, back and forth.

Forty minutes. Back and forth.

An hour. Rex sat down on the bed, undoing the belt and lifting the vest off over his head. He had to do something to keep busy, otherwise he felt as if his thoughts might overwhelm him. He had to trust that Skywalker would come. He always did, even if he was late.

Two hours. His eyes remained fixed on the closed door, listening intently for the sound of anyone approaching.

Two hours, forty minutes. Rex’s gaze dropped to the floor, his brows pinching.

_He’s not coming._

His chest throbbed. Standing silently, and without any further preamble, Rex slid off his shirt, then his boots and his trousers. They were dropped in a heap on the bed.

The room had with it a sizable, somewhat old-fashioned ‘fresher, one he planned to utilize now. It even had a “hot” or “cold” option. Sliding the door till it shut behind him as he stepped inside, he stared at the two choices for a moment. With a reluctant grimace, he picked hot.

Warm water immediately splashed against his back, wetting his scar-covered skin and easing some of the stiffness he hadn’t even realized was there.

_Skywalker didn’t come._

He stared down.

_Kriff._

Pressing his forehead against one of the ‘fresher’s walls, Rex let his fingers curl around his cock, giving it a slight stroke.

_Skywalker’s hand on my dick._

He felt it twitch against his palm, heat rushing downwards. His breath caught in his throat, eyes squeezing shut as his wet hand picked up a steady pace, squeezing his length firmly. The sound of the water falling was enough to cover the noise of his quickening pants.

_The forest, the way he was laughing._

The muscles in his thighs tensed, and despite the increasing heat of the water, Rex shivered. He pressed a hand to the ‘fresher’s wall for support, his head falling back as he swiped his thumb over the hardening head of his cock.

“ _Hn_!”

His own voice, a muffled moan through gritted teeth and a taut jaw. It wasn’t enough – he needed a faster, harder pace. Something _punishing_. His hand sped up, rubbing over the slick skin and squeezing with his fingers till it _hurt_. Rex’s hips jutted forward, a sound somewhere between a sob and a choked moan rumbling from his throat.

_Skywalker’s eyes in the dark on Coruscant, glimmerin’. I should have kissed him then._

There was a quiet, wet _squeak_ when his hand slid down the moistening wall, hunching forward as he rutted shakily into his hand. The pace was starting to become uneven, unsatisfying. Despite it, he was too close, too wound up already, and there was no way he was going to last much longer. Definitely not with thoughts like the ones he had. His breathing became mixed with wordless, hoarse mutters, his wrist aching.

Close, close, close. The squelch of the water between his dick and his palm as he squeezed.

He pressed his fingers over the head of his cock. A flash of intense heat – all his muscles clenched, his jaw going slack as a pulse wracked through his length, sending ejaculate spilling over his hand in short, trembling bursts. He couldn’t breathe or manage a sound other than a stuttered grunt, not until he had finished. His shoulders sagged as the thudding sensation came to a stop, his half-lidded eyes lowering to look at the sticky substance that trickled down slowly between his fingers.

Skywalker’s name had been on the tip of his tongue, left unsaid.

Rex curled that hand into a fist, banging it once against the ‘fresher’s wall. It stung, and he groaned tiredly.

_It’s going to be a damn long month._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are hugely appreciated!
> 
> The next chapter will be from Anakin's point of view, instead of Rex's! We'll be getting some insight into what's happening and what he's feeling.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are those who have an intense fear of loss. They hold onto everything and everyone, even if it threatens to send the very same people away. That person tries their best, through anger and hesitation, to overcome that fear and finally realize what they want. The struggle doesn't end there, however.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _We've gone and made such fools of ourselves._   
> 
> 
> A chapter from Anakin Skywalker's point of view.

“Padmé. Padmé!”

Her steps didn’t slow. Anakin sighed loudly with the intent of making sure she heard it, quickening his own pace till he was beside her, peering around to look at her face. It was blank, her brown eyes focused on the hall in front of her.

“Padmé, you can’t just ignore me.”

She stopped abruptly. He moved to stand in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t about to let her get away, not now.

_You’re not going anywhere._

“I have other things to do, Anakin,” she retorted in a stiff manner. Anakin could feel her irritation, but it wasn’t enough for him to back off. “My schedule isn’t so open that I can just – _just_ wander off with someone whenever I want. I need to prepare for tomorrow. I have a meeting to gather notes for, senate plans to look over – ”

“You know, those sound _a lot_ like excuses not to talk to me,” he cut in sharply.

It was her turn to sigh. She looked away, pursing her lips.

“Let me guess - you’re not going to stop pestering me till we talk, is that it?” she asked tentatively, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

“Yup. That’s about right.”

She frowned at that, but Anakin stood a little straighter, holding his ground.

“Alright,” she relented, her small shoulders sagging just a tad. “We’ll have a discussion. Somewhere private. Follow me.”

Anakin shrugged, taking a step back with a sweep of his arm and sarcastic half-bow. “After _you_ , milady.”

_Great, good job. Mock her, that will put her in a better mood._

It was a short walk to her bedroom. Not much had changed since the last time he had been it. The colors were still a pale blue, like the Naboo sky. Everything was open, airy. Glass doors led out to the expansive balcony where thick, flowering vines clung to the railing. It was already pitch black outside, and several orb-shaped lights offered a white glow that lit up most of the room and some of the outside.

Padmé turned to face him.

“Well?” Her expression was resigned. “What did you want to discuss, Anakin?”

“How about the fact that you’ve been avoiding me today? Or what happened on the ship?” It was hard for him not sound angry, and he grit his teeth, taking in a breath. Before he could continue, however, Padmé spoke up. She sounded nearly as annoyed as he did.

“Today? You mean when you ran off with your Captain? How about the way you looked at him on the ship?”

“The way I _looked_ at him? C’mon, Padmé – ”

“ _No_ , Anakin – just … no.” She shook her head, her expression upset. “I know you. I know that look – it’s the one you used to give me, back when we got married. A look of _love_!”

Anakin’s jaw clenched, his eyes lowering.

“Look me in the eye, and tell me you haven’t developed feelings for him. Can you do that?”

_No._

He stared at the hem of her dress. She exhaled softly, moving forward.

“I’m not interested in sharing you, Ani,” she murmured gently. He felt her dainty hand cupping his cheek, the tips of her fingers drifting over his cheek-bone. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” he whispered back fiercely, brows drawn upward as his eyes raised to meet hers. Anakin pressed her hand against his skin with his own, tilting into it. Soft, smooth.

_Rex’s fingers carding through his hair, tucking it behind his ear and out of his way as he lay beneath him in the dark. They were different than anything Anakin had ever felt. They weren’t Padmé’s cool, shapely fingers. The Captain’s hand was warm and firm – he could feel the strength within each digit. Those were the same fingers that pulled triggers and signaled directions to his men. Anakin knew that Rex had broken them what seemed like a million times from a million different things. They were covered in light, almost invisible scars from the breaks. In that moment, he could have kissed the tip of each finger._

Padmé smiled a little as Anakin swallowed. “I know you do. You have such a big heart, and I know there will always be room for me. That love, though? I don’t think it’s the same anymore.”

“ _Padmé_ …” he pleaded.

“You need to make a decision. You can’t … pursue two people at once. You need to either love me – or your clone.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Anakin mumbled. His thoughts felt like a catastrophic mess, all breaking apart into mis-matched pieces that made his limbs feel heavy. Decide? Deep down, he had known – known it would have to lead up to a decision, somehow, but a fearful unease clutched his heart. A frustration, an attachment.

_I don’t want to let go._

“You won’t lose me,” she reassured quietly, her smile faltering. “You won’t, but … you need to let go of one of us.”

He could sense her sadness, how it seemed to flow out of her skin and fill her every word.

“Before you do anything,” she began to whisper, her hand dropping from his face. Anakin gripped it tightly within his own. “You have to decide.”

_I know._

###### //

“– pleasure to have you with us during this meeting, Master Skywalker.”

Anakin could see Rex distinctly from where he sat. He was standing across the round table at one side of Padmé’s chair as she chatted quietly with the Queen. Captain Typho flanked the other side. Rex’s gaze was focused straight ahead, unwavering.

He had spent most of the meeting trying to catch his Captain’s attention, for any glimpse he could get into those amber eyes. It hadn’t mattered what he did, whether it was sitting as straight as he could and lifting his head, or slouching and tapping his foot against the floor beneath the table. Rex hadn’t looked, not once. That didn’t stop Anakin from noticing the newly darkened bags under his eyes.

_Poodoo. I should’ve gone to his room anyway last night. I can feel how tired he is. Just how long did he wait for me?_

“– Master Skywalker?”

Blinking, he jerked his face up, meeting the confused gaze of Sio Bibble who stood beside his chair, looking down at him. Anakin cleared his throat.

“My apologies, Governor Bibble. My mind was on … _other_ things.”

Sio nodded, fingers curving around his white beard as he stroked it absently. It reminded Anakin of Obi-Wan. “That’s understandable. I’m sure the war has the Jedi constantly occupied. I’m glad you’ve found the time to visit Naboo.”

Anakin smiled slightly, shrugging. “It’s not so much of a visit as it is my duty.”

“You mean the clone?” Sio murmured quietly, motioning with a tilt of his head towards Rex. “I was surprised to see one among Senator Amidala’s guards. Is he defective? Not suitable for battle?”

_He’s incredible. When he has that crooked smile on his face, it makes me want to kiss him till he falls apart._

His smile became forced, a flash of heated irritation rising in his stomach. “No. He’s an amazing Captain, one of the _finest_ out there. You won’t find a more loyal soldier.”

Sio raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then why is he here?”

“He just needs some time away. The Chancellor decided it.” A bit of indignation slipped into his tone, his shoulders stiff. Sio seemed to notice, and he adjusted his collar with an awkward cough.

“It was good talking to you, Master Jedi,” the Governor mumbled with a small bow of his head. “It seems the meeting has ended till tomorrow.”

Anakin felt oddly triumphant with his defense of Rex, hardly giving Sio a return nod before his eyes sought out the Captain. He blinked – he was gone, along with Padmé and Typho. They must have left while he was talking to the guy.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, standing quickly, and rounding the table to the doors that led outside.

_I need to talk to Rex._

Anakin shaded his eyes against the Naboo sun as he made his out, glancing around for any sign of Rex or Padmé. If he spotted Rex, his work was done. If he spotted Padmé, Rex had to be somewhere nearby. There wasn’t, however, any sign of them. Exhaling, he pressed his lips together, banging his fist against the doorway.

“Is … everything alright, Master Skywalker?”

Sio’s voice again. Anakin whipped around.

“Governor,” he began hurriedly. “Do you know where Padmé – _er_ – Senator Amidala went?”

The man hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “I believe she headed back to Varykino for lunch – ”

“Thanks,” he cut in quickly, giving the Sio’s arm a hard pat that caused the older man to grunt and wobble slightly before he took off half-running.

_The way Rex’s face had turned a deep shade of red when he accidentally brushed against his crotch. Anakin had frozen instantly, staring down at him. Had that been a moan, or was he imagining things? He had never seen Rex blush before, the way the color stained his dark cheeks and made it all the way up to the tips of his ears. It was mesmerizing, and Anakin couldn’t look away. The color looked good on the Captain, going together well with the way he panted. It went straight to his own crotch. Anakin’s heart pounded against his chest, a warning in the back of his mind that he probably shouldn’t be doing this. When had he ever listened to that voice, anyway? He lightly nudged the spot again. His own lips parted with awe when Rex bit down on his lower lip, taking that flesh in-between his teeth. Anakin couldn’t help the dazed thought of how much he loved it._

He was out of breath by the time he had made it to Varykino’s doors. One of the handmaidens blinked at him in surprise when he entered.

“Master Skywalker? Is everything alright?” she asked curiously.

“Do you know where Captain Rex is?” he panted, bending over for a moment as he took in big, deep breaths.

“Oh, the clone? I just walked by him. I think he’s heading towards his room for a break. Why – ”

Anakin didn’t give her time to finish, merely rushing past her and turning down one of the halls. He could sense Rex now, that specific signature he gave off within the Force. Warm, resilient. Depressed, full of guilt, tired, powering through anyway.

_Damn it. Damn it._

Then, he spotted him.

“Rex!”

The man stopped slowly, glancing over his shoulder. Anakin could sense apprehension, unease – it morphed into concern once he caught sight of how winded Anakin was, his brows pinching.

“Sir?”

“I need to talk to you,” he breathed, jogging to cover the last bit of distance between them.

“Why are you out’a breath?” Rex asked cautiously, raising an eyebrow.

“ _Ran_ ,” was his short, quipped reply. “Look, about last night – ”

Rex interrupted him. “It’s fine, sir.”

The response only vaguely covered the other’s exhaustion. Anakin knew how to recognize it. He got that tired reply from him often, even if he could sense that it was an outright lie. Been shooting droids for several hours? “Fine, sir”. Breaking his ankle? “Fine, sir”. Wallowing in darkness? “Fine, sir”. Anakin was beginning to hate that response, just as much as it stung a little every time his Captain didn’t call him by his first name, despite how he stubbornly encouraged it.

 _My name, my life – everything’s yours._ That’s what he had said before, in the prison. It almost seemed like he didn’t believe it went both ways.

_You’re mine, Rex, but I’m yours too._

“No, it’s not 'fine'. I’m tired of hearing 'fine',” Anakin snapped, irritation filling his chest. It came out harsher than he meant to say it. He could see the corners of Rex’s eyes tighten, and the way he stood a little straighter.

_Why can’t I get a better handle on my emotions? I don’t want to hurt him._

Rex was silent now.

“Rex?” he asked quietly, looking to meet his gaze. The other quickly lowered his eyes, clearing his throat.

“If you’ll excuse me, sir,” he began steadily, “I’m going to take my break while the Senator has her lunch.”

“ _Rex_ ,” Anakin groused, moving to step in front of him when his Captain turned away. “I want to talk.”

“I have a duty to do right now, sir,” was the rigid retort. Rex’s eyes still didn’t meet his.

Anakin glared. He hated it when he used that voice – that “soldier” voice, one that kept any emotions tightly in-check, even though he could still feel what Rex was feeling. He always could, no matter what. During the war, without even realizing it, Anakin had attuned himself closely to Rex. The man was good at keeping things buried and to himself, but not Jedi-level good.

_Don’t get angry, don’t get angry._

Taking in a deep exhale, he stepped forward. Rex took a step back. Anakin took another one forward, then another, till he heard the tell-tale _bump_ as Rex backed into the wall. He cornered him, squaring his shoulders. Rex stood very still, his arms stiff at his sides.

“You’re on break,” Anakin murmured, “ _not_ a mission.”

Rex didn’t respond, nor did he look up, staring hard at Anakin’s chest.

 _You have to decide._ Padmé’s words.

_I think I love him._

Slowly, Anakin lifted a hand, cupping the side of Rex’s face. He felt a small tremor as the tips of his gloved fingers touched the other’s skin. Rex’s eyes were shut tight now, and when Anakin glanced down, he could see Rex’s fingers flex pensively.

_He’s wound tighter than he thinks he is._

Anakin couldn’t help the slight smile at the thought. It was a little endearing, though it could be as equally frustrating.

Sliding his fingers beneath Rex’s jaw, he tilted his face up. The man’s entire expression was stiff, as if he didn’t dare to move a muscle. Anakin leaned down, his heart taking up an uneven pace as it beat hard against his ribs. It wasn’t the expression Padmé would have on her face when they kissed. Her eyes would be lightly shut, her lips puckering in preparation for his own. Rex’s eyes seemed squeezed shut as tight as he could make them, his lips pressed together, but not puckered.

_I wonder if he’s ever been kissed before. I can sense he’s nervous._

Their noses brushed together. Anakin tilted his head a bit, his own eyes drifting closed as his bottom lip ghosted over Rex’s –

Cheek.

Anakin opened his eyes, blinking perplexedly as he pulled back. Rex had turned his face to the side, away from his incoming kiss.

Guilt. Anakin could feel an immense amount of guilt pouring out from him. Why?

“If … you’ll excuse me, sir,” he repeated haltingly, “my break is over.”

His mind blanked as Rex spoke. He took a small, wavering step back, and Rex immediately moved from the wall, turning away and walking off down the hall without another word. Anakin remained staring at the now empty space where the other had been, his brows furrowed.

_What was that?_

“… Rex?” he murmured as he finally looked up.

The Captain had already disappeared.

Anakin’s hands curled into tight, _aching_ fists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> A little chapter on how Anakin's feelings and struggles are progressing. The next chapter will continue back in Rex's point of view.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every single person has a breaking point. Even the strongest, most reserved must fall apart sometime. They may be strong, resilient, and hardened by years of self-hate and superiority complexes, but even they fall to their knees and cry for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _How did we get here?_   
> 

Ten days.

That day marked ten days since Rex had spoken to General Skywalker. Four more, and it would be two weeks, not that he wanted to think about that fact. He exhaled quietly. The ten days didn’t just mark how long it had been since he had spoken to the Jedi. It was also ten days since Skywalker had made the move to _kiss him_.

Ten days since he, at the last possible kriffing second, had turned his face away from it.

_I couldn’t let myself have that. Not supposed to – not meant to._

Rex squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, willing the thought that had created an empty ache in his rib-cage to disappear, but it only burned brighter behind his lids. The tip of the other’s nose against his, reminding him of that night on Coruscant. His lips had been so close that Rex could have begun to sweat from the apprehension. Was there any specific method to kissing? Some standard to follow? He hadn’t known, and not knowing sent thrills of unease down his hips. It hadn’t kriffing mattered, though. Before he had realized completely what he was doing, those lips just barely touched his cheek, instead of his mouth.

_It’s going to drive me crazy how I can’t stop thinkin’ about it._

He had no choice but to open his eyes again and continue to stare at the wall across from him as Senator Amidala chatted with her visitor. Every now and then, his eyes would drift to the open doorway, expectant, but always disappointed. A scowl worked its way onto his lips.

Rex hadn’t seen his General for ten days, either. Not a single damn glimpse of dark hair, dark robes, and lively blue eyes.

There was no way in hell he was asking Amidala if she had seen him. They were on thin enough ice as it was, and it didn’t seem remotely appropriate. Rex’s brow furrowed. A small worry had begun to knot itself in his stomach, taking away his appetite bit by bit. Part of him wondered if maybe Skywalker had left him, and gone back to the front-lines without saying a word. Rex didn’t dare let himself think the word “fear” and apply it to what he felt about the possibility, but the feeling was prominent in his mind, even if he refused to name it.

_He couldn’t have left. Kriff – he was supposed to be with me the entire month._

_You’re afraid, clone._

The nightmares had gotten worse in the man’s absence, as if without his presence, there was nothing stopping them from tearing him apart. His endurance was close to shambles.

Rex was damn lucky to get just a few hours of sleep before waking up soaked in sweat and out of breath, or to go a day without swearing to himself that he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It would be dark, formless, or a transparent white. Sometimes, there were whispers. Other times, knocks and footsteps.

The shaking in his hands was getting more and more difficult to hide.

_I can’t be going insane. I can’t. I’m stronger than this._

He didn’t dare speak about it to anyone, though it wasn’t as if he had anyone to speak about it to. The handmaidens and other servants stayed within their little groups, and so did the other guards.

He belonged to neither of those.

There was no room for a clone trooper.

_It’s fine. Not here to fit in or make friends. I’ve got my brothers back home, and General –_

Rex lowered his bleak gaze to the floor, curling his hands into hurting fists at his thighs.

What were he and Skywalker now?

Every part of him felt exhausted. He couldn’t remember a time when he had felt this tired. Not even battle wore him down this much. It felt as if something was constantly feeding on his energy – as if Skywalker had been the source of his meager positivity all along, and without him there with his damned smiles and warm chuckles, there was nothing left.

“ _Goodness_ , I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. It’s almost dark outside.”

Amidala’s startled voice wrenched him from his thoughts, and he straightened wearily, pulling his shoulders back. He didn’t doubt she would say something if his form wavered.

Bibble chuckled. “I always lose track of time talking to you, my dear.”

“It was a wonderful discussion, Sio,” she laughed, smiling brightly. “I enjoyed catching up with you, it’s been far too long.”

“Let’s not let it become too long before our next chat,” the Governor said gently. “Sometime next week, perhaps?”

Amidala nodded, her smile softening. “Next week sounds wonderful.”

Both of them stood. Bibble bowed courteously, and the Senator returned it with a gracious curtsey. As the Governor rose, he offered a somewhat amused expression in Rex’s direction.

“I hope you’ll forgive us for boring you, mister clone. I’m sure our conversation was hardly interesting to protect.”

Rex averted his eyes from the Governor’s, staring straight ahead. “Just doing my duty, sir.”

“He’s been doing a _fantastic_ job,” Amidala admitted pleasantly. To Rex, it seemed like she was having a good time, and in a considerably better mood than the beginning. He was somewhat taken aback by the agreement, tilting his head. “With all the energy clones seem to have, I was surprised he was able to stand still for so long. He’s giving Captain Typho a bit of competition.”

They laughed. Rex only stared, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“You can go ahead and leave, Rex,” the Senator decided. “I don’t need you for anything else tonight. Thank you.”

_Finally._

He gave her a small bow of his head before leaving the room, exhaling tiredly once he had made it out the doorway and sagging against the nearest wall. Placing a gloved hand to his face, he massaged his brow, groaning under his breath.

_All my energy’s been spent worryin’ about my sanity and Skywalker._

Closing the door behind him as he entered his quarters, he undid the chin-strap of the helmet, tucking his gloves inside it and putting it on top of the dresser. He piled next to it the belt and the blaster pistol, rubbing one of his tension-ridden shoulders with a grunt.

“Might as well contact Dogma,” he mumbled.

There was no reply, of course. Just the slight ringing of his voice in an empty room.

_Great. Talkin’ to myself now._

Grabbing his small, circular holo-transmitter from the small table by his bed, he sat down on the edge of the mattress, watching it blink as he tried to make contact.

He had meant to contact Dogma sooner. He was worried about him, but with the dreams and the situation with Skywalker, it had somehow slipped his mind. Every one of those nights that he had caught sight of the holo-transmitter, he had told himself he would call him the next day, and check up on him. It hadn’t happened so far.

Guilt.

Rex was loyal to his homeworld, his brothers. The Kaminoans? The bounty hunters? Not so much.

He refused, for a moment, to dwell on what may be happening there. That would be a thought to have in the ‘freshers where no one would see the way his chest shuddered. Skywalker had promised Dogma wouldn’t end up “rehabilitated”, labelled as defective, or given new conditioning to undergo. Rex would have to believe in that promise.

_It’s my fault. If I had executed Krell like I was supposed to, Dogma wouldn’t have gotten in trouble. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to be sent back there. I do._

There was a flash of blue as Dogma’s image came up on the transmitter. The relief at seeing his face made Rex feel light.

“Dogma,” he greeted, grinning slightly.

“Sir!” was Dogma’s stiff return, saluting.

_Business as usual._

“Just checkin’ up on you. How’re things on Kamino?”

“Good, sir.”

“They treatin’ you right there?”

Dogma nodded. He looked fine to Rex, at least. Maybe a little tired, a little worn, but not traumatized. Not hurt. That was what mattered. It lifted just a little bit of the weight from Rex’s shoulders in the midst of all his other darkening thoughts.

“Sir?” Dogma asked hesitantly, his blue holo-figure tilting its head. “May I, ah … make a _personal_ comment?”

Rex raised an eyebrow. “… sure, kid.”

His brother didn’t hesitate, immediately blurting out, “You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine.”

The reply came out reflexively, without even thinking on his answer. Dogma’s tattooed face seemed doubtful by the way his brow furrowed. Rex turned his face away for a moment.

_I’m not fine, but it doesn’t matter. I want to be your Captain. I can’t be anything else other than “fine”._

Dogma’s blue figure fidgeted suddenly. Rex’s gaze moved back to it, narrowing his eyes slightly. He could have sworn he saw a hand on his brother’s thigh for a moment. He had to be imagining things – the lack of sleep was getting to him. He couldn’t help but ask, however, when Dogma cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“You okay, Dogma?”

“Yes, sir,” he hurriedly replied. The blue seemed to darken somewhat on his face. Was he blushing? He still had his no nonsense, way too serious expression on his face, but Rex could have bet anything that his face seemed to get several shades darker.

“You sure?”

“Yeah – _yes_. Yes, sir. I need to sign off. I – I was only taking a break. Got to get back to my duties.”

“ _Dogma_ – ”

“Ret'urcye mhi, Captain.”

Dogma’s image flickered, then disappeared.

_That was … odd._

Rex ran his fingers over his buzzed hairs with a shake of his head, exhaling. Dogma seemed like he was doing alright. Better than he was, at least. Pushing himself off of the bed, Rex moved to place the holo-transmitter on the dresser by his belt.

Footsteps.

Rex slowly turned his head towards the door, narrowing his eyes.

Someone – _something_ was in the hall outside.

Step, step, step.

_Just like the nightmares and everything that I’ve been hearin’._

Rex managed a low, quivering inhale, holding his breath.

Step, step, step.

His skin felt cold, clammy, the air seeming like it was draining the warmth from his body. Thoughts inside his head became short, single-syllable words.

_Thing I don’t know._

A sudden knock against his door startled him, causing a jerk to travel from his shoulders down to his knees. It sounded as if someone was hitting the door at the bottom, with their foot.

_Bad._

It seemed to take eons before his reaching fingers finally closed around his blaster pistol on the dresser. He brought it back to his chest quickly, gripping it with both hands.

Another knock, harder this time. Impatient.

The index finger of his right hand slid over the trigger, curling around it. Rex slowly extended his arms till they were nearly straight, aiming the weapon at the closed door. His hands shook, unable to remain fixed on any one spot. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed the weapon till his knuckles hurt.

_Pull it together, Rex. Kriff. Aim the thing, and do it right._

He couldn’t stop the shakes, the panic that iced his blood.

There was another knock, as if something was kicking it.

His throat felt dry, and he swallowed, willing his voice to be steady as he called out, “… come in.”

No response. Just a kick.

_Guess I have to find out myself._

Rex closed his eyes for a moment, opening them again as he let out a quiet exhale. He took several careful, deliberate steps, quickening his pace a little till he was by the door once he knew his knees wouldn’t give. His heart thudded loudly in his ears, seeming to block out any other sounds around him, even though the room was silent.

Varykino didn’t have all sliding doors, except for some of the ‘freshers. There was either no door, or one he had to open and close manually with doorknobs.

It took just as long as it had to grab the blaster pistol to pry one of his hands away from it, letting his fingers instead close around the doorknob. He twisted his wrist, turning it. It opened a crack, and in an instant, he brought the hand back to the weapon, aiming shakily at the open slit.

Clones are the galaxy’s best soldiers. Clones don’t panic.

All he could see was a dark shape in front of the slit.

He nudged the door with the tip of his boot, pushing it open more.

Then, he breathed, and there was warmth flooding back into his chest as he lowered the blaster pistol.

Skywalker.

The Jedi was fidgeting impatiently, leaning from foot to foot as he balanced a plate of food on each hand. Something was in his mouth, though Rex couldn’t guess what. For the moment, he was merely relieved to see him. A broad, crooked smile stretched across his face.

Skywalker mumbled something unintelligible, jerking his head at the half-opened door. Rex blinked – then muttered a quick apology as he pushed it open all the way, taking a step to the side. The Jedi immediately entered, and Rex shut it once he had.

Rex watched with a raised brow and a bewildered face as Skywalker set the plates down on the bed, taking the thing out of his mouth. He recognized it now. It looked like a wax stick – a candle. Why did the guy have a candle?

“Took you long enough to open the door,” the man sighed, flexing his jaw. “I thought I was going to accidentally eat the wax.”

“ _Er_ …” Rex cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “My apologies, sir. I didn’t know who was at the door.”

“No kidding,” Skywalker commented wryly, motioning with one hand at the blaster pistol Rex still clutched. “That seemed a little unnecessary. What’s got you all worked up that you needed to point that thing at me?”

_Nightmares._

Rex looked away, shrugging as he moved to set the weapon back down on the dresser. The quakes in his hands had subsided enough that he could hide them if he made his hands into loose fists. “Just a precaution.”

“Pretty lethal precaution,” the other muttered, sighing.

Silence.

“If I may, sir,” Rex began hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

“Food,” was Skywalker’s simple reply, grinning.

“I … can see that,” he mumbled. “Guess what I _meant_ to ask was ‘why’.”

Skywalker’s expression faltered. He almost seemed unsure, completely different from his usual confidence. It made Rex feel uneasy. He had always relied on that confidence of the Jedi’s. It got him through a lot, more than the other could ever know.

_Don’t know how I survived ten days without him._

The General didn’t say a word. Instead, he moved forward, taking one of Rex’s hands. Lifting it, he slotted their fingers together, pulling lightly till Rex let him guide him towards the bed. Skywalker sat cross-legged at the head, in front of the pillows. Smiling anxiously, he nodded his head at the end of the bed. Rex slowly lowered to sit at that spot, crossing his legs as well. The man immediately placed one of the plates of food in front of him.

“I know you haven’t been eating,” Skywalker said all of the sudden. “Don’t bother with any of those ‘I’m fine’ statements, either. I can tell. It’s kind of surprising.” There was a chuckle. “You guys always have such huge appetites.”

Rex stared down at the food. Maybe he could eat. It did look pretty good. A small smile tugged at his lips.

_I missed him._

The bed shifted. Rex looked up, watching curiously as Skywalker placed the now lit candle on the nightstand. The lamp-light lowered till it was only a subtle glow, their main source of light now emanating from the flickering flame. Rex guessed he must have used some Force trick to get it going.

“Candles are supposed to be romantic,” Skywalker murmured, his brow then furrowing. “I think. I like the kind of light it gives off, anyway.”

_Romantic?_

Rex’s hips squirmed a little. Skywalker was already gathering pieces of food onto his fork. He used it to point at Rex’s plate, smiling encouragingly. Hopefully.

“I, _uh_ … made the food. I’m not the best cook. I probably could have gotten the droids to do it, but I think I did alright.” He paused, then added quietly as he lowered his eyes, “My mother was a pretty good cook. She tried to teach me when I was a kid. I managed to learn a thing or two.”

Rex’s eyes widened, brows raising.

_He never talks about his mother._

Grabbing his fork, he stuck it into several bits of the food. Skywalker hadn’t taken his bite yet. He could feel the Jedi watching him intently, leaning forward a little. Despite the way his insides did flips under that gaze, he brought his fork into his mouth. There was a burst of flavor on his tongue – damn good flavor. Rex couldn’t help the appreciative groan as he swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment.

_It’s kriffing amazing._

“Does it get the Captain’s approval?” Skywalker asked, his tone teasing. Rex opened his eyes, grinning lop-sidedly.

“Yeah – this is great.” It seemed like a lame response compared to what he wanted to say, but Rex meant every earnest word. “Never tasted _anything_ this good.”

Skywalker’s huge smile threatened to take over his entire face, his blue eyes shining with pleasure. Rex could feel his delight, too. It entered him, easing his exhaustion and worry, undoing the stress in every vertebrae of his spine.

“That’s what I hoped you’d say,” the Jedi laughed, eating his own bite.

A comfortable silence endured as they ate. There was just the sound of their utensils clanking quietly against their plates, or the occasional hard swallow. Rex hadn’t realized how hungry he was till he had taken that first bite, and it was difficult to show restraint when all he wanted to do was gulp down his food as fast as he damn could. A dozen questions made circles around his mind. Where had Skywalker been? Had Amidala really been so busy that they hadn’t seen each-other, or something else?

He didn’t ask, not with the chance that it could shatter the fragile peace between them.

_I want to ask for another chance to kiss him. Shouldn’t, but I do._

“Sorry about not bringing any drinks,” the Jedi apologized ruefully after a bit. Both of their plates had been practically wiped clean, with Rex first to finish, even though he had attempted a slower pace. “There was only so much I could carry.”

“Couldn’t you have used the Force?”

“ _What_ , like this?”

With a playful grin, Skywalker lifted his hand. For a moment, it seemed like nothing was happening. Rex crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head skeptically. Suddenly, the candle flickered, and lifted from the small table, peeling away with the melted wax. It hovered eerily in the air. As Skywalker turned his wrist, it floated over to the bed, coming to a stop in-between them.

“Using the Force takes focus,” the Jedi explained, his voice quiet. “It was either balance a plate on my hands, or bring over a couple of drinks. I figured you’d want something with a little more substance.”

The candle turned in the air as he spoke. Rex was entranced, lips parting with admiration as it twirled. The light from it bounced over the different angles of the other’s face as it moved, and before he fully realized it, his gaze had drifted to stare at Skywalker instead.

_Not bad._

Skywalker’s grin widened impishly. “A Jedi needs complete focus to do anything.”

With a showy tilt, the candle dropped down onto Rex’s empty plate, still lit and spilling wax over its sides. Rex chuckled – till he felt an invisible grip over his entire body. It lifted him up, inches from the bed. He wobbled, lifting his head quickly. Skywalker’s eyes were closed in concentration, both his hands raised as he brought him up into the air. It was a weightless feeling, as if gravity had malfunctioned somehow and no longer held onto him. Slowly, his body moved forward, hovering across the bed, and closer to the General. It was all Rex could do to hold his arms out to the side to keep some sort of balance.

“ _General_ …” he mumbled warningly, his shoulders tensing as Skywalker’s face became closer and closer.

The Jedi opened his eyes, smiling more gently than usual. Rex held his breath as the other leaned forward, closing the short distance between them and lightly kissing his cheek. Rex let out an exhale, fisting the sheets of the bed once Skywalker had let him down with a low grunt.

“You’re fine – _see_?” he teased, nudging Rex’s arm with a loose fist. “I’d never let you fall.”

The place where he had kissed his cheek felt warmer than the rest of his face, and Rex swallowed thickly, nodding.

“… I know,” he finally managed. His own voice sounded foreign to his ears – low, slightly uneven. “I trust you.”

Skywalker chuckled warmly. “Good. That’s good.”

With a huff, the Jedi slid off the bed, stretching his arms over his head with a pleased hum.

“The food was pretty good, if I do say so myself,” he remarked cheekily. Rex might have rolled his eyes if his heart wasn’t beating so fast from it all. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Rex blinked, then moved quickly to stand as well. “ _Ah_ – good-night.”

Skywalker’s smile became softer than Rex had ever seen it. “Night, Rex. I missed you.”

It was when the door clicked shut and Rex was left alone in the dim light of the lamp that he finally murmured back, “… missed you, too, General.”

###### //

_Darkness. Complete and utter darkness, without anything in sight. Rex couldn’t see anywhere. He wasn’t sure where he was, or what he was even standing on. It was as if the world was suddenly empty, and all that was left was himself._

_“CT-7567.”_

_It was so damn cold. Rex shivered, his breath becoming mist in the black air when he exhaled. He took a hesitant step forward. The sound of his foot echoed around the emptiness so loudly that he didn’t dare take another step._

_“CT-7567.”_

_Rex knew that voice._

_“I can sense your fear, CT-7567. You think you can escape me? You? Some defective little clone?”_

_He knew that voice, but he didn’t see its origin anywhere. It was as if it was all around him – as if it was the darkness itself, enveloping him in it._

_“You couldn’t even shoot me when you had the chance. I know what you are.”_

_“You don’t know a thing,” Rex spat._

_There was a bodiless chuckle. “I know more than your little, constrained mind will ever know. I know what you are.”_

Rex jerked his head up from the damp pillows, wheezing for breath and yanking his arms out from the tangle of the sheets. Sweat dribbled down the side of his head, following the shape of his jaw and his throat till it pooled into the dip of his collarbone, still visible in the tight-fitting blacks. He licked his upper lip, wetting his dry mouth. He could taste the sweat there, too.

“You’re an _aberration_.”

Rex froze.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” the voice whispered, unknown lips pressed right against the shell of his ear. “ _You_ , the big, bad clone captain, frightened? They ought to take you back to Kamino to have your head re-examined.”

He couldn’t breathe. His mouth was opening, desperate to take in air, but nothing came. The sweat felt like melting ice against his skin.

“What? You think shooting a powerful Jedi in the head gets rid of them? You’re more small-minded than I thought.”

With a wet, sharp, air-starved inhale, Rex whipped his head around. There was nothing there but a dark wall. He reached for the lamp by his bed, damp fingers feeling for the “on” button till his thumb slammed into it. The lamp flickered and glowed to life, illuminating his window-less room.

His eyes drifted around it slowly as he panted, fisting the sheets of his bed with both hands till his knuckles were white.

Nothing.

Relief made his shoulders drop, and he dragged a hand down his face, wiping the thick coat of sweat from it.

“Just part of the nightmare,” he muttered to himself.

The lamp’s light abruptly dimmed, and then turned off. Rex nearly dove for it, pressing his thumb into the button again and again till his finger hurt. It didn’t turn on, not even a bit.

_What?_

“Nightmare?” laughed a rumbling voice. “No, _nightmares_ are when you are asleep. You are not asleep, CT-7567. You are very much awake.”

_Pong Krell. Pong Krell._

Rex breathed in short, gasping breaths, head turning right and left. He couldn’t see a kriffing thing in the new darkness. His eyes refused to adjust, even as he squinted and peered with a desperation that shook every muscle.

“I’ll kill you,” Krell promised in the darkness. “Or, perhaps I’ll get you to kill yourself, just like you murdered your fellow clones.”

“ _General Skywalker_ ,” Rex whispered under his breath. It had meant to be a _shout_ , but it was as if all the power in his voice had been taken away. “ _General Skywalker_.”

“Master Skywalker? He can’t do anything,” Krell scoffed. “What a weak little solider you are, calling for help from someone just as _evil_ as I am. You don't even know.”

There was a burst of adrenaline that shot through his legs, and Rex scrambled off of the bed, fumbling in the dark for the blaster pistol on his dresser. His hands closed around it, and he jerked it around, aiming shakily at anything he imagined moved.

“Look at how your hands shake. It’s sad, really. That Dogma would make a better Captain than you. He might even make commander when you couldn’t.”

“Show yourself,” Rex hissed, his finger trembling over the trigger.

“Show myself?” Krell’s voice hummed thoughtfully, and Rex could feel something press against the side of his head. “You don’t have the authority to command _anything_ of me.”

Rex whirled around, and fired. There was a flash of blue light as the laser burst from the blaster pistol. It hit the wall behind the dresser, leaving a smoldering orange hole.

_I’ve got to get him, I’ve got to get him –_

“Missed,” Krell chided off to his side. “Disappointing.”

Rex fired again. The shot ended up on a wall at the other side of the room. It looked like a circle of small, dying embers from a fire.

He heard the door open suddenly.

“Rex? _What_ – ”

Rex turned, and fired before he could even think, breathing so hard that his head was pounding.

The lamp slowly glowed on again, banishing the darkness of the room.

Skywalker was bent over with one hand still on the doorknob, his eyes wide with shock.

_General Skywalker – did I – ?_

Rex realized then that the other had _ducked_ just in time. He could see the blast-mark on the wall out in the hall across from his door.

The blaster pistol slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor. He didn’t have any strength left. His knees buckled, and he sunk to the floor with a winded gasp.

_I nearly killed him._

His vision blurred – tears, he realized, flooding his eyes, pouring over his lids, and dripping down his sweat-stained cheeks. The two liquids mixed together on his skin. Every breath made his chest heave and his shoulders quake, feeling his throat constrict as a choked _sob_ left his lips. Rex buried his face in his hands, digging his blunt nails into his forehead as the sobs became louder, less controlled.

He had never been more disappointed in himself than during that moment.

Rex had prided himself with never having cried in front of anyone before, not even his brothers. Not even Cody.

The sobs hurt. He was out of breath, and barely had the energy for them, each one making his throat ache and his body convulse.

_I’m not fine._

Warm, strong arms wrapped around his waist, tightening till he was pressed into what he knew immediately to be Skywalker’s firm chest. There was nothing left. Rex sagged into him, letting the General use one hand to pull down Rex’s own hands from his face. He pressed his forehead into the crook of the Jedi’s neck, inhaling his scent raggedly. Comforting, familiar. Rex shakily grabbed the front of Skywalker’s loose sleep-shirt, wheezing for breath.

His Jedi didn’t say a word. Rex felt one of his hands rubbing slow circles into his back.

Finally, after several shuddering sobs, Rex managed to find his voice.

“I … almost _killed_ you,” he breathed quietly into his neck.

“I trust you,” Skywalker murmured simply, his fingers trailing down Rex’s spine and going over each bump. “It’s alright.”

“It’s _not_.”

Skywalker chuckled gently. “Hey, you know I always survive.”

Rex didn’t have a response. He shivered roughly as the sweat and tears cooled on his skin. Skywalker squeezed him even tighter, and he felt the Jedi’s nose brush over the short hairs on his head.

“… Rex?” the other asked quietly.

Slowing tilting back his head, Rex took in a deep breath, reddened eyes lifting to look at Skywalker’s distraught blue. “Yeah?”

Skywalker was silent, staring intently at him with an unrecognizable gaze.

Rex felt a hand cup the back of his head, and the Jedi’s lips fit against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are hugely appreciated!
> 
> This took a lot longer to write than usual, oops! Had to end it on that great cliff-hanger. Ten chapters in and they finally kiss, rest in peace. 
> 
> I'm also here to announce that I've decided, once I finished this story, to do a spin-off based on what happens to Dogma while he's at Kamino. Dogma deserves love and cute things, so I'm going to give him that. Looks like you'll have to wait to figure out just why mister protocol and regulations was blushing!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together, they fall, through space and through stars, sliding down planet rings. They know what is happening, that they need to save each other from themselves, but when love blooms like the heat of a blue fire, he is engulfed by the flame. It burns away the horrors a soldier wants to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _The truth is hiding in your eyes._   
> 

General Skywalker was _kissing him_.

His lips were firm, fitted against Rex’s with a building heat that was like a sun coming to life in the middle of a pitch-black galaxy. It was an unidentifiable action, one he wasn’t bred to deal with, like sudden embraces or blue gazes that were like fire. Rex’s mind short-circuited, eyes widening as dark brows shot up over his forehead. Every muscle within him went rigid, a soldier’s response. Stiffening shoulders gave him a taut posture, back straight and hands gripping the Jedi’s loose sleeping top till his brown knuckles turned white.

Panic crept into his mind, thoughts scrambled. What the hell was he supposed to do? Sure, he’d seen kissing before. It wasn’t that unfamiliar, but it wasn’t as if he had studied the action. He hadn’t thought he would need to. A tremor shook him all the way down to his bare toes, but Skywalker’s gripping hand on the back of his head kept their lips stubbornly pressed.

For moment, Rex swore he was unable to breathe. The air felt trapped within his chest, _tight_ , as if he was exposed to vacuum of space.

He could taste the salt of his own sweat on the man's mouth. it almost felt like he was dirtying him.

His hold on Skywalker’s shirt became a slight clawing at his chest with blunt, wavering fingers. This seemed to signal something – Skywalker loosened their lips, leaving just a centimeter between the burning flesh. It was enough. Rex’s chest shook with the rush of his exhale, gasping out breathlessly.

General Skywalker had _kissed him_.

Rex felt their noses touch, then Skywalker’s lips brushing tentatively across his own once more. His heart was beating so damn hard that he thought it was going to bruise his insides.

_What do I do? What the kriff do I do?_

He squeezed his eyes shut till he saw colors, inhaling unevenly. Skywalker stilled.

_Ah._

It was damned impulsive, and felt like it took every last bit of his reserves of strength, but slowly, Rex leaned forward a little. This was the final charge into a battle he was losing, he knew. Their lips bumped together clumsily, and Rex let out a long breath, freezing. It seemed the damn Jedi was starting to _grin_. He could feel the slight curve of the other’s mouth against his own, the familiar way the corners would twitch upward. Warmth flooded Rex’s cheeks, and with a grunt, he pulled back as far as Skywalker’s commanding hold would let him, which wasn’t far at all.

Amber eyes averted sharply from blue.

_Kriff. I’ll just apologize, tell ‘em I shouldn’t have kissed back –_

“You’re thinking too much, Rex,” came the Jedi’s sudden low murmur.

Rex sputtered hoarsely. “What? I am _not_ –”

Lips. Lips against his own again, demanding silence. Rex obeyed, eyes shutting once more.

_This isn’t right. This shouldn’t happen._

This kiss was harder, more insistent. Rex found himself being pushed backward onto his haunches at an alarmingly hurried pace, balance wobbling as his calloused hands reached quickly at Skywalker’s shoulders, digging his fingers in with a desperation that made the Jedi his life-line. The other was still moving, _crowding_ over him. Rex’s back hit the floor, shoulder-blades smarting slightly from the abrupt impact that caused him to grunt out before the noise was swallowed. Skywalker didn’t seem to notice. The man hovered above him, legs on either side of Rex’s as if to silently order him to stay there as their mouths met again and again.

_I can’t. It’s not right for me._

The slowness had changed into something reckless. What was he supposed to do when this was his first damn kiss? Jaw slack, Rex’s back arched up off the floor, legs jerking as the kiss became a sloppy rush of mouths and the clack of teeth. It was a struggle to catch his breath as Skywalker’s fervent mouth clamped onto his own. His skin felt like it was on fire. Their chests knocked together as Skywalker lowered some, Rex’s back forced down to the floor.

The kiss reminded him a lot of Skywalker. It was a stupid thought, he knew. It _was_ Skywalker kissing him. There was a determination to it, a power that threatened to destroy Rex’s cracking resolve.

_What if it is … alright?_

“ _Skywalker_ ,” Rex breathed, muffled by the crushing intensity of it all. It was as if Skywalker was trying to mold the shape of his mouth onto his own, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the man was trying to break him apart. Rex had yet to launch his own kiss, not that he could with the uncoordinated with the way his stiff jaw kept his lips awkwardly pressed. “Skywalk – _hn_!” he attempted again, gasping the general’s name between another kiss that slurred the word. He couldn’t tell if the Jedi hadn’t noticed, or was ignoring him.

Damning both of the possibilities, Rex brought one of his legs up to sharply nudge at the Jedi’s thigh with his knee. This seemed to finally get his attention, and Rex breathed out as Skywalker reluctantly lifted his head. His brows were pinched, one raised slightly as eyes scanned over Rex’s face.

“What?” the other finally exhaled after a moment. There was a bit of uncertainty in his tone.

Rex cleared his throat, turning his head so he could look away and avoid those blue eyes. His brown cheeks felt hot, too hot beneath that gaze. His chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to gather the thoughts that had broken apart in the atmosphere of it all. Maybe he could convince himself that the blame was on the Force.

_Kriffin’ Jedi._

A few rapid beats of his heart passed before he heard his name murmured near his ear. “… Rex?”

Rex waited for the sound of Krell’s voice in his head, but it never came. There was only a tense silence now. Cautiously, he glanced at his hands, which were still gripping Skywalker’s shoulders, unwavering.

_They’re not shaking now._

He loosened them enough to slowly let his arms begin to drift around Skywalker’s neck, but only got half-way before he stopped. It felt like a million things were holding him back. Which reason was he supposed to pick?

“… sorry, sir,” Rex finally murmured. At least he had found his damn voice. He felt Skywalker’s shoulders tense against his arms. “Needed a … breather.”

_Did I ruin it? Hell, should I even be wanting it?_

Skywalker startled him by laughing suddenly, light and easy. Rex could almost forget that he had shed tears in front of him a minute ago. He could almost forget that he had nearly _killed him_. It was a _lie_ to tell himself that, but he wanted to believe it. Skywalker had the ability to make things change like that. Rex found himself staring up at him, his own brows furrowing. Skywalker flashed him an amused grin. In the dimness of the lamp, Rex could finally take note of the pinkness on the man’s cheeks.

“What’s so _funny_?” Rex forced out. Had his try really been that laughable? The Jedi snorted.

“You,” was the unabashed reply, one that made Rex scoff with another rush of mortification. Skywalker’s grin settled into a smile. The curious question asked after that pause made Rex’s shoulders hunch rigidly. “Have you ever kissed someone before?”

_Clones aren’t supposed to be in relationships, let alone goin’ around and kissing civvies._

“… No.”

Skywalker blinked, and his smile disappeared. Rex forced himself to keep his eyes on him, even as he felt something sharp like shrapnel sink into his gut. The Jedi must have sensed it, because he spoke up hurriedly.

“ _No_ – no, Rex, I was just … _ah_ , poodoo.” Skywalker lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. The motion seemed apologetic, if Rex guessed right. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s fine, sir.”

A bit of the darkness returned when Skywalker made a face.

“It’s not fine,” he returned sharply. “Stop saying that like it is. _None_ of this is fine.”

Rex kept his jaw tightly shut, unmoving as Skywalker’s eyes searched his. The concentration was scalding. He ended up bowing beneath its pressure like it was his duty.

“… if you say so, sir.”

_Wrong choice._

Skywalker’s eyes narrowed. His growing frustration made the air feel thick, and Rex resisted the urge to say another word. He wasn’t _afraid_ – he was never _afraid_ of him – so much as he felt torn raw by the look, exposed when he didn’t want to be. There were too many things he could say, too many ways to brush off what Skywalker had walked in to see. _A nightmare_ , Rex had wanted to make himself say, some nightmare that all clones had that didn’t matter. The words never did leave his mouth.

_I’m just being weak. It was all that cryin’. I shouldn’t have cried over some nightmare. It was just a nightmare._

Suddenly, lips were on his cheek. “ … You aren’t fine, Rex,” Skywalker muttered softly against his skin. “Don’t _lie_ to me. I know you.”

A shudder passed over Rex’s chest, but he grappled and won with his composure. It was as much as he could manage, discouraging the unfamiliar emotions from taking over him.

“Sir –” The word was gruff, barely audible, but Skywalker still cut him off.

“’ _Anakin_ ’,” he insisted lowly.

Then, a kiss that eased every single one of Rex’s muscles. Skywalker’s hand slid back behind his head, fingers smoothing over the buzzed, bleached hairs. The kiss was slower, a little more careful, as if the Jedi was trying to guide him through it. Hell, Rex wasn’t even sure he was _allowed_ this yet. He couldn’t resist the guy, however. Not Skywalker. Not _his Jedi_. He had followed him into every mission, through every command. He had even been thrown off an _exploding wall_ by him.

Kissing Skywalker felt a lot like that.

_It feels like the moment he caught me just before I hit the ground._

He’d kiss him any time he wanted to.

_I think … I want to, too._

“Relax your jaw,” Skywalker mumbled distractedly against his mouth.

Rex made a muffled sound that was supposed to be a, “What?”

Skywalker parted their lips, lifting his head a bit. “Your jaw. You’re pretty stiff.” Rex could guess he was teasing him a little, but it was spoken with a fond gentleness that made Rex’s heart tremor and fingers clench against the other. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard Skywalker speak like _that_ , or anyone, for that matter. Not to him.

“ _Er_ …”

_Yeah, great job, Rex. Good response. Top marks._

“Here,” Skywalker chuckled. Rex felt a thumb rest against his jaw, pressing firmly and causing his lips to part. The finger rubbed tiny circles into his skin before it was gone. “Like that. Loosen up.”

“Why –?”

When their mouths connected again, Rex couldn’t help the noise that caught in his throat.

_Oh._

Rex could taste the hot air of the other’s mouth on his tongue as their lips _smacked_ , a sound that made Rex’s toes curls and his arms to find enough naïve confidence to wrap fully around the other’s neck. His fingers brushed through the long strands of hair he found there, and he was startled when Skywalker shivered against him.

Had he caused that?

In the space of that reaction, there was a bit of tenderness between Skywalker’s steady panting and Rex’s hard gasps exchanged against their parted lips. Warmth felt as if it was rushing to fill his chest, explosions of emotions that he didn’t know, didn’t have a name for. The rush slowed, and then became light caresses, the top of Skywalker’s lip dragging along the curve of his bottom one. Rex made a choked sound, fisting the back of the Jedi’s top. This was gentle, as if Rex were some sort of damn crystal worth an entire star system, and not what he _knew_ he was. It made him feel uneasy. There was a twist in the pit of his stomach, and his heels dug into the floor, closed lids tensing.

“Rex,” Skywalker whispered thickly. “Rex, you alright?”

“Yeah,” Rex managed to croak. “Fine, sir.”

Skywalker huffed, an impatient exhale. The thumb of the hand cradling his head rubbed over his bleached hairs at the nape of his neck, in the shape of half of a circle. Why was it so gentle?

“Tell me _now_ if you want me to stop.” The Jedi’s tone was earnest, a bit stern. Their eyes met. “That’s an order.”

Rex nodded wordlessly, caught off-guard. Skywalker’s face became suddenly worried.

“ _Rex_ ,” he persisted, “I don’t know what’s going on, and _this_ … _probably_ isn’t the right time –”

_Now who’s thinking too much?_

With a sharp jerk, Rex yanked him downward, and their mouths crashed together. It was just as clumsy as before, but that didn’t matter. Thinking didn’t matter. All that did was the way Skywalker groaned into his mouth as if Rex's kissing was _good_ and settled down on top of him, rubbing their chests together as one of the Jedi’s arms looped around his waist, pulling him up slightly. Rex exhaled loudly, his spine bending as his hips dipped and his back gave way to the shape of Skywalker’s arm. The strength kept him lifted, muscles buzzing. Something wet – obedient, his lips parted to it, and the taste of the other’s tongue took over his mouth, sending shock-waves down his limbs that all twitched in response. The sound of someone grunting breathily, almost a groan – had that noise been _himself_?

Skywalker was panting harder now, filling Rex’s mouth with both hot air and a lapping tongue. It was against the roof of his mouth, over his lips, licking at his own with such intensity that Rex felt his mouth coated. It was an overwhelming sensation, Skywalker’s tongue in his mouth. Rex couldn’t even began to describe the taste, the desperate yearning that coursed through him. He wasn’t even sure he had the vocabulary for it.

With the hesitance of a rookie, Rex shifted his arm, his rough hand dropping to tentatively cradle the side of Skywalker’s cheek. Soft hair, soft skin, not at all like his scarred fingers. Skywalker’s head tilted towards his palm, and he felt the other’s low, appreciative noise shake both of their chests.

Heat rushed downward, and Rex squeezed his thighs together, hips jerking.

_Kriff._

Their lips broke apart, and Rex turned his head, gasping for air. He felt like he’d just run several dozen laps around a battleship. His tongue darted out to taste his lips. They felt partly swollen, damp with spit. It wasn’t that much of a guess as to who’s it was.

Skywalker was kissing his cheek frantically, following the shape of his cheekbone down to his jaw. Rex sucked in a breath, tilting his head back as another pulse of heat pooled around his groin. The Jedi’s lips kissed along the side of his throat till he came to the high collar of Rex’s blacks.

Rex felt teeth suddenly pinch the skin of his throat.

He didn’t want to admit to the moan that came stuttering passed his bruised lips, but he could hear it so distinctly in his voice. A little shaky, half a rasp. The hand that had been cradling the other’s cheek moved to fist his hair, his shoulders curving inward around Skywalker’s head. Another nibble came just beneath his chin, sharper.

“Skywalker,” he breathed out.

The Jedi murmured something against his skin, but Rex couldn’t tell what it was. His fingers tightened in his hair.

“Hey,” he managed again, voice faltering, “I’m …”

Skywalker looked up slowly. Fiery blue peered meaningfully into amber. There was a silent question in them, one that Rex knew the moment he saw it.

 _… by creatures bred in some laboratory!_ Krell’s voice was far, far away, but the words still echoed around Rex’s skull.

_Am I more than that? Or am I just the solider followin' orders?_

When the Jedi looked at him like that, Rex wondered if he could be something else.

Rex gave him one short nod.

Skywalker’s flushed grin could have powered an entire planet.

 _“What a weak little solider you are, calling for help from someone just as evil as I am,”_ Krell had said, and Rex wanted to drag his words out of his head. _“You don't even know.”_

_He doesn’t know who the hell he was talking about. Skywalker could never be evil like that. It was just some kriffing nightmare. Guy had a cloud of fog for a brain. General Skywalker is more of a Jedi than any of ‘em could be._

With a strength that always startled Rex, Skywalker wrapped both of his arms around his waist, hauling him up and pulling him towards the bed. Rex’s calves hit the end, and he fell back, grunting as he bounced slightly once he landed on the mattress. Within the span of a second, Skywalker’s mouth was back on his, tongue slipping passed his teeth and dragging along the side of Rex’s. The bed dipped as the Jedi moved up onto it, dropping to lay on his side by Rex.

Skywalker’s mouth seemed to be every all at once. On Rex’s lips, Rex’s cheek, skimming along his jaw, or nipping at the column of his throat. A hand was on his crotch – Skywalker’s, Rex found himself stupidly thinking, it’s _General Skywalker’s hand_ – and it squeezed tightly. The air Rex had been panting cut off abruptly, stuttering within his throat as Skywalker’s wrist twisted and he felt the base of his palm press into the head of his length through his blacks. Any sort of patience seemed to be abandoned, and Rex was fine with that. More than fine. Skywalker yanked at the hem of his blacks’ pants, a rush of cool air causing goose-bumps to dot Rex’s skin till he felt the warmth of the other’s hand push through his coarse, dark pubic hairs. 

The urge to be discomfited came and went quickly once those same fingers curled around the middle of his length.

Rex fisted the sheets with one hand, eyes going wide as he exhaled raggedly.

_Kriff._

“Rex.” Skywalker’s lips were by the shell of his ear, playful but desperate. “Want to give me a hand here?”

If Rex thought his cheeks couldn’t burn any hotter, he was _dead wrong_.

The position isn’t the best, laying on their sides next to each other, but it’s the last thing Rex is thinking about. His mission was to get his hands on him. It didn’t help that Skywalker had started stroking him, a pace that was quickly gaining speed and sapping the strength from Rex’s limbs. He almost tears the fabric, but when Skywalker shudders and the other’s length throbs against his palm, he knows he’s made it.

_Mission complete, sir._

Their combined breathing filled Rex’s ears as he curved closer to the other, hand trembling once he picked up a clumsy stroking pace. Skywalker’s touch already had him near bursting. Every press of this thumb against the base of the head of his length had the coil of heat at the pit of his stomach clenching dangerously. Rex spasmed, knocking their foreheads together.

“ _Sorry_ ,” he panted breathlessly, “My apologies, sir –”

“Rex, if you call me 'sir' _one more time_ ,” Skywalker half-hissed, “I’m leaving. Got it?”

Rex didn’t have a chance to find out if he was serious before he was kissed. He was pretty sure he wasn’t.

This kiss was more of a touch than a kiss. Their lips were loosely pressed, open enough that they could both breathe against the other. Rex wasn’t sure he could do both at the same time. Skywalker’s strokes had become too passionate for him to close his mouth. It was difficult to tell, through the intensity of it all, what his own hand was doing. He could feel it moving against Skywalker’s length, and how there was a throb now and then when the Jedi cursed under his breath and rutted forward. He wasn’t sure when their legs had become tangled up together, either, or when Skywalker’s arm had wrapped firmly around his middle.

It didn’t register immediately that he was being _held_.

A spark of heat – hotter, hotter – and somewhere between his own rhythmic gasps and pitched noises, Rex managed a desperately grunted “close, _close_ ” against Skywalker’s mouth.

“I know,” the Jedi was saying, voice thick, “ _I know_ , I can sense it, c’mon, Rex –”

All it took was his name on Skywalker's tongue. His muscles contracted, hips jerking through each wave of the orgasm that beat at him. His vision blurred, and he could feel the crotch of his blacks dampening as he writhed against the mattress. Skywalker was murmuring in his ear, but Rex couldn’t tell what the words were, just that it was something low and fierce and had his body sinking back down as if under his command. It startled Rex when he suddenly felt Skywalker jerking against him.

_Is he –?_

The stickiness of his palm gave him his answer. The Jedi's orgasm seemed restrained somehow, his eyes shut and his lips pressed in a thin line. Rex didn't want to think about it. Not then, at least. He didn't want to wonder _why_.

A few minutes passed with them laying quietly, Rex trying to catch his breath as Skywalker scooted closer, dipping his head so their foreheads touched. Rex raised his eyes slowly to meet his. The blue seemed brighter somehow, as if the color had power itself. Rex wasn’t one to call things _beautiful_ , but all it took was a look in the eye from Skywalker, and the breath he was trying to catch was gone. Rex wasn’t sure what the other was looking for as he stared at him. He had to be looking for _something_.

_If you’re looking for anythin’ special, you’re not going to find it on me._

Skywalker’s lips lifted into a smile.

“I don’t know about _you_ ,” the Jedi announced suddenly, tugging Rex closer with the arm he still had draped around him. “But I could use some sleep.” The smile became a grin. “Think you’ll let me bunk with you, Captain?”

Rex blinked, before his own wry grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “… Yeah, think I will.”

With Skywalker there, he’d forget his nightmares.

###### //

The sound of boots rapidly hitting the floor of the Jedi Temple’s grand hall reverberated off of the bare walls. Her quick, near stomping pace earned her quite a few displeased looks from the aged masters she passed on her way, but the last thing on her mind was taking it _slow_.

As soon as her thumb jammed into the button that alerted Master Yoda she was outside his room, it _swished_ open.

It was spacious, but dim. The blinds were drawn almost closed, letting in thin slits of light from the sun-lit Coruscant outside. To one side was a small bed with a pillow at the top, and a neatly folded blanket at the bottom. To the other, a low table, atop which sat a lightsaber.

In the center, on a circular cushion, sat Master Yoda, his back to her. She breathed a small sigh of relief, an accomplished smile brightening her face briefly.

_Good, he’s here! It sure saves me the trouble of having to search the whole Temple._

“Padawan Ahsoka,” came Master Yoda’s light, gravelly greeting. She could sense the soberness emanating from it without needing him to turn. “Know the purpose for your visit, I do.”

“Then … you felt it too?” Ahsoka half-whispered, lowering her voice as she stepped into the room, and the door _swished_ shut behind her.

It seemed to get a little darker.

“Yes,” the older Jedi confirmed, shifting to look at her over his shoulder. “A disturbance in the Force, there is. _Dark_ , hidden.” He pressed his wrinkled lips together as the lines on his forehead deepened.

Ahsoka chewed on her lower lip, worrying the flesh between her teeth. She hadn’t wanted to be right, not this time. It was one thing to prove Master Skywalker wrong over something stupid, and another to sense something so … _black_. She had felt its waves early that morning, jerking her awake and throwing her over the side of her bed as she groped for her lightsaber.

Half of her hadn’t wanted to find out if she had been the only one. The other half knew she had to.

_Powerful! It had been so powerful._

She lowered her eyes, jaw clenched. Master Yoda hummed.

“Felt this darkness before, have you?”

A whoosh of an exhale left her as she nodded. “Yes, Master, when I was with Captain Rex.”

“ _Close_ to him, you are, yes?”

Another nod, worry making her white markings furrow. “I … I don’t know what to make of it, Master Yoda,” Ahsoka admitted softly. “It wasn’t like sensing Count Dooku,” she rushed to add, “or General Grevious – it was …”

_Haunting._

“I’m worried,” she finally murmured. “All I know is that it’s strong.”

“Troubling, this is,” Master Yoda agreed quietly. “Come, sit. _Meditate_ on this, you must.”

He extended a clawed hand to the space next to him on the cushion. Ahsoka paused for a moment before she stepped forward, lowering to sit cross-legged across from the Master, mimicking his already seated position.

“Close your eyes, Padawan,” he instructed. “Focus, you need to. Guide you, the Force will.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could, hands resting on her knees.

_I ... don’t know if I can do this._

“Your abilities – trust them, you should,” she heard Master Yoda saying. His voice seemed a little far away.

_He’s right! I’ve got to do this – for Rex._

It didn’t seem like much was happening at first. She could hear the distant sound of the traffic outside of the Temple. A little farther, the sound of an argument outside of a bar. Someone had snuck a drink without paying for it.

_What kind of idiot thinks he can get away with that? Agh! Focus._

She almost cracked an eye open when, suddenly, there was complete silence. Not even the faint sound of the older Jedi’s breathing came to her.

It was heavy, but she felt like she was floating. Even the light weight of her lekku were gone from her shoulders.

“Your eyes – _open them_ , Padawan.” Yoda’s voice echoed around her. She turned her head slightly. “Show you, the Force will.”

_Yes, Master._

Cautiously, she opened one eye, then – startled – the other. All around her was a thick, purple-ish fog. She could barely see below her waist.

“All I see is fog,” she finally said aloud. Her voice echoed, too. “Not much else. _Kind of_ hard to see what the Force is supposed to show me with all this here."

_Kind of wish Master Skywalker was here. At least he’d get my sarcasm._

Something moved out of the corner of her eye.

“ … Master?” Ahsoka tried hesitantly. There was nothing from Master Yoda’s voice.

Goosebumps dotted her skin as her hand went to her lightsaber. It grasped at nothing, and she looked down sharply.

“ _Great_ ,” she mumbled. “Guess it’s no weapons in the Force zone.”

Another shape. This time, she sensed it behind her. She whirled around, raising both her fists quickly.

“Show yourself!” she shouted. Those two words in her voice bounced around the fog till, a beat later, they faded away. It was back to the same, eerie silence.

_“A new power is rising. I’ve foreseen it.”_

Ahsoka tensed, going still. The voice echoed around her like a taunt, the hissed syllables causing wisps of fog to curl upward.

_“The Jedi are going to lose this war.”_

“Yeah?” Ahsoka retorted sharply, eyes darting from side to side. “Says _who_?”

“ _Careful_ you must be, Padawan.” Master Yoda’s warning was like a whisper. She could just barely hear it.

“Master Yoda!” she called out, her fists tightening till she felt her nails dig crescents into her palm.

No answer.

Cold engulfed her like the exhale of an icy breath. A shiver shook its way down her, and she huddled slightly where she stood, gritting her teeth against the chatter that threatened to take them.

“Why don’t you show yourself?” she demanded loudly. 

_Should I be ... afraid?_

Something passed in front of her eyes. Slowly, she looked up, sucking in an uneven inhale.

The shadow that stood in front of her was large, both wide and tall. It was feature-less save for a broad, toothy grin.

Ahsoka froze.

 _“I’m coming,”_ the shadow purred. _“I’m coming for that defective clone!”_

“Rex!”

Ahsoka’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked against the sudden light, though dim, of Master Yoda’s room, raising a hand to shield them for a moment. The chill still lingered on her skin, and she shivered again, giving both of her arms a few rubs.

“Learned something, you did, Padawan, of your feeling?” Master Yoda inquired solemnly.

Ahsoka rushed to stand, nodding so quickly that her head-tails bounced against her shoulders. “It’s Rex,” she breathed, “Something’s coming for Rex. It was big – the dark side of the Force was _all around it_ , Master.”

Master Yoda was silent for a moment.

“ _Go_ ,” he finally murmured. “Go to Naboo, you must.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, about six months later! I had so much going on that I got writer's block and simply didn't know what to do. However, I'm back, and hope to be posting chapters about once a week, or at least without going six months between each one. I hope you all enjoy this extra long chapter! I'm a bit rusty when it comes to writing scenes like that, but I figured you all deserved a treat. Comments and kudos are hugely appreciated and keep me going!
> 
> Check out my Slick story [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13242696/chapters/30291495)!

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea that it was Anakin and the other Jedi who started the name-trend that spread throughout the rest of the clones. 
> 
> This serves as a prologue to the rest of the story, just a bit of background I wanted to establish for the sake of looking at when Rex's feelings might have first blossomed. I always wondered how Rex might have gotten his name, and decided this would be a cute way. My writing is a bit rusty, but bear with me. 
> 
> The first chapter will begin after episode ten of season four, the "Carnage of Krell". It always bugged me that they didn't really elaborate what happened after that, as a Jedi going dark like that should be reason for serious concern, not to mention what the clones went through. It also seemed like the perfect opportunity to begin the romance between Anakin and Rex. 
> 
> My knowledge of the Star Wars universe isn't perfect, nor do I own any bit of it or the characters. I apologize ahead of time if I get any terminology or proceedings wrong!


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